Semper Fidelis
by Crowded Angels
Summary: MSR Mac gets an order he wasnt expecting. Sender? The US Armed Forces. WiP
1. Reinstation

Hey all! This has been floating around for longer than I care to admit to, only just put down on interactive paper lol

Please keep in mind that I dont know anyone from the Armed Forces, just have great appreciation for them. Any inaccuracies are purely my own fault, and I apologise.

It will eventually be MacStella, but I have a lot in mind before that can happen.

Note: 'Semper Fidelis' stands for 'Always Faithful'. I found it whilst scooting around the US Marine Corps website. It was accompanied by: 'To the Nation,to eachother and the cause we Serve"

Thanks to all who kept badgering me to type it up ;) x mwah x

Hope y'all enjoy

* * *

"Stella, I found something interesting on the victim's clothes" Trisha, explained, thankful to finally find the detective wandering the halls. Stella urged the young lab-tech on with a head nod as she took the Mass Spec print-outs from her hands. "Just below the collar on the green shirt…" 

Trisha's findings hadn't stemmed off, but Stella's attention had. The sight of two US Marine officials stalking the halls of New York's CSI building would have that effect, especially if watched ascending to Mac's office.

Stella tried to redirect her senses back to Trisha, but her peripheral vision caught Mac standing to attention, saluting the two Marines.

She watched as the men handed him an envelope, to which Mac seemed to thank them for, then turn on their heels and retrace their steps back to the doors.

"So what do you think?"

"Hmm? What? Oh, yeah…good find, erm, send the garment to trace and keep me posted" Stella stuttered, her mind racing in two directions: The case-breaking find Trisha talked of, and the extremely intriguing arrival of USA Marine's into Mac's office.

Trisha frowned slightly, wondering why Stella hadn't answered her questions, but did as she was told and headed off to Trace.

She fought with herself for all of 2 minutes as to whether to leave the perplexed-looking Mac standing over the Manila envelope in his hands, or feed her own fearful curiosity.

The latter won.

She took a furtive glance down the halls, checking for any impending interruptions: no Danny; no hyper Chad on another caffeine high; and no Flack looking pensive in his leather jacket, again. Something told her this talk warranted full attention.

"Mac?" She asked, popping her head around the glass doors. "Everything okay? I- I saw the Marines."

He didn't react at first, so Stella asked again, closing the door behind her, "Mac?"

"I've been reinstated." he uttered, still staring intently at the envelope. She'd only ever seen that kind of devoted stare with Danny and the latest Swimsuit Edition.

"What?" she breathed out.

"I've been reinstated to the US Marines" he looked at her this time. She couldn't quite read the look in his eyes; she thought she almost registered fear.

Her own eyes darted from corner to corner, desperate to focus on anything but this. "…when?"

He took a breath. "10am tomorrow"

"Mac…"

He took another deep breath, collecting himself and his thoughts. "Right, are you okay to continue this case solo?"

Still taken aback, she managed to stutter "Yeah, of-of course, erm…"

"Good, I need to call Chief Highborne and…" he listed his affairs that needed to be in order before he shipped out, all the while shuffling pages and tidying his desk. When he grabbed his jacket from his chair and moved to pass her, she reached out and touched his arm. There was no way he'd let this sink in; there was no way he'd realised that he was leaving New York City, his home for near-on 12 years, to go to some God-forsaken war-torn corner of the world from where, Heaven forbid, he might not even return. No way.

She could barely manage a whisper as she said "Mac…"

His head drooped, noticing the unshed tears and sheer fear in her eyes. He wasn't sure who was supporting who when they hugged each other.

_...TBC..._


	2. Goodbyes

Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter! I hope y'all like this one just as much.

Off to write more to chapter 6 lol Becs x

* * *

Mac Taylor pulled to a stop outside of Sullivans. He killed the engine and sat back in the seat, taking in the surroundings.

Did he really have to go in? There was more things he could be doing with his time.

Was there? In all honesty, was there anyplace else to be? The only people he knew in New York were probably packed into that bar. Where would he go? Drive the streets for the sake of it? Go to Claire's grave again?

Accepting defeat, he locked the car door behind him and took a breath before opening the heavy door to the bar.

"It's Mac" he heard somebody say, before the large group of familiar faces broke out in applause. He was sure his cheeks had flushed, so he just graciously smiled and dropped his head a little.

Stella walked up to him, a smile on her face and her drink in her hand. "Well, that colour's a first on you" she patted his arm. "C'mon, we'll get you a drink"

He let her lead the way to the bar, "Just a water"

"This is your last day in New York, Mac" Danny grinned, slapping his back, "Loosen up a little." He looked like he might be loose enough for the both of them, or getting there at least.

"Water's fine" he said, telling the bartender more than Danny.

"Put it on my tab, Joey" Stella said. She watched Mac give a sheepish look to the large gathering. He recognised them, but wouldn't have necessarily said he knew them well enough to warrant a Goodbye. "They're not going to bite, Mac" She grinned, bumping shoulders with him.

"You sure about that?" he asked, taking a swig from the bottled water Joey had set in front of him. He turned around and braced his back against the bar, watching the congregation.

"Hi, Mac." A voice said to his side.

"Aiden" he managed to say, not expecting to see the brunette. After the debacle, which resulted in her departure, he hadn't seen her at all.

"Yeah, Danny brought me" she said, reading his mind. She set her drink on the counter "I just wanted to…clear the air"

"I'll leave you two…" Stella whispered, moving over to the pool table. It was Danny vs. Flack, and Flack wasn't looking too happy for himself.

"I just wanted you to know…that I understand why everything happened," Aiden said, bracing her arm on the bar, "and that I blame myself, never you." Her head dropped in residual embarrassment

"Already forgotten" he smiled, "So what are you doing with yourself now?"

"I'm actually working at the Museum" she smiled. Mac noted she looked happy, he was glad. "I've been constructing faces on the skeletons in the exhibits. Making displays of what they would have looked like in their day." Now she looked proud.

"That sounds really good, Aiden. You'd do well there" he nodded his approval, adding a genuine smile to the mix.

"Okay, I'm going to get back before Flack takes a cue to Danny's head," she chuckled, seeing a jubilant Danny by the pool table, "Be safe okay?" she enveloped him in a quick hug. It ended before either could feel uncomfortable.

X

Mac couldn't believe that only two hours had passed. It felt so much more. He'd spoken to practically everybody in the room. He looked around to check. Yes, he'd spoken to everyone there, all except Stella and Danny, and the latter was headed straight for him. Maybe he'd be able to slip away soon. Away from the same questions; same wishes; and same people. They meant well, but he was tiring quickly.

"You sure you don't want a drink, Mac? A proper one that is" Danny grinned, only slightly slurring more than before.

"I'm fine, thanks, but I will have a quick word, if you don't mind" he guided him off to a quieter corner

"What's up, Mac?" he bounced on his heels slightly.

"I just wanted to apologise. I admit I've been hard on you recently, what with the homeless man case, then the shooting, and how Aiden's leaving affected us all. I just see so much potential in you as a CSI, and I pushed you the only way I knew how, but I see now it was maybe too harsh."

"Mac, you've nothing to apologise for. I know I need to reign myself in sometimes, and I'm working on it." he nodded. "But, anyway, you're talking here like it's your last conversation with me. It's not. You'll be back in no time, advising me out of my latest screw up, okay?"

Mac couldn't help but smile at the slightly inebriated (and swaying), but earnest look in Danny's baby blue eyes. "Okay" he said, still unable to shake the feeling that it just might be last time they talked. The possibility was still there.

They shook hands, slapping each other on the back in a one-armed hug.

"Sure I cant tempt you…?" Danny asked, gesturing with his glass.

"I'm good. Save it for Aiden"

Danny winked, before rejoining the crowd again, this time cheering Aiden in a pool competition against lab tech Chad. Aiden was winning, naturally.

Mac stayed in place, smiling ever-so-slightly at the dejected, but amazed, look Chad bore.

"How you holding up?" Stella asked, joining him. Her hand on his arm breaking his reverie.

"I'm good. Going to take off soon, I think"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, early morning"

Stella nodded, a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Pick you up tomorrow?" He looked to her confused. "You didn't think you were driving yourself to the airport did you?" she said with a chuckle. "I'll pick you up at 8."

X

The doorbell rang at exactly 8am; Stella Bonasera was never one to be late.

Mac made his way from the kitchen, straightening his clothes on the way. He swung the door open, instantly silencing Stella from her greeting.

"I know- wow" her eyes bugged as she took in the sight before her. She hadn't seen Mac during his Marine years, only pictures and the odd story. But seeing him in front of her, suited up in the Marine dress, was a sight for sore eyes. She scanned his uniform: the dark blue trousers with a red stripe, set off by the navy blue over-coat with stripes and pins. They all meant something that Stella didn't understand, but felt a strange pang of pride and patriotism towards. When her gaze reached Mac's face, she realised she hadn't spoken for a while and, to her embarrassment, her mouth was open just slightly. "Hi"

"Hi" he said, a bemused smile on his lips.

"I brought breakfast" Stella smiled, holding up the carrier bags in her hands. Mac moved to the side, allowing her to go in.

She made her way to the kitchen, saying to Mac behind her, "I figured you wouldn't have eaten, so I went to your diner and grabbed some food. I got your usual" she put the bags on the table, taking some plates from the cupboard. It didn't really surprise her that she knew Mac's kitchen almost as well as she knew her own. She'd cooked there enough in the past, forcing him to eat something. Anything. "as well as some not so usuals"

Mac watched as she plated blueberry pancakes, French toast, and bran muffins. He wasn't too sure if he was up for eating so much, especially with the day that was ahead, but his stomach decided otherwise when it loudly growled at the sight of New York's finest bagels. Stella raised an eyebrow at the noise. "Tuck in"

They ate in silence. It wasn't that they had finally ran out of things to say, which in all honesty, had to be soon, but they were just comfortable in each others presence. They had the ability to converse in silence, probably expressing more with looks than their mouths would ever be able to keep up with.

"Can I ask you a favour?" Mac eventually asked

"No"

"Oh"

"Mac, c'mon!" Stella giggled. It was a cheap trick, but never failed to work.

"I've left some money on the side, would you be able… to put some fresh flowers on Claire's grave every now and again? I don't want-"

"Consider it done" she smiled. She hadn't thought for a second that Claire would have been very far from his mind.

They finished their food in the comfortable silence they had already enjoyed. When the last bite was eaten, not a scrap left, Stella screwed up the papers and containers and threw them in the trash. She'd get rid of it later.

"Packed? Ready to go?"

Mac took a final look around the home, mentally-photographing it, before giving a final nod. With a deep breath, he picked up his white hat, his small backpack and handed the key to Stella. "Lets go"

X

Stella pulled to a stop at the departures gate of the airport. She killed the engine, unbuckled and twisted to look at Mac. "End of the road"

Mac nodded, his face only showing a slight glimpse of the smile that he bared occasionally. They got out of the car, staying on their respective sides. He spun to her with a smile, "I'll see you soon" he said, turning to leave

"Mac, Wait!" she called, running the length of the car. She slipped her hands around her neck, undoing the clasp of her necklace. She brought it forward, slid the pendant from it, and put it in her pocket. She took the ring from her finger and dropped it onto the chain.

Without a saying a word, she put her arms around Mac's neck, clasping the chain. "There. Now, that is my favourite ring and I want it back, you hear?" she smirked, though it quickly turned sad. "I know you think you have nothing to come back for" another silently conversed fact, "but now you do"

Mac chuckled, fingering the jewellery before eventually slipping it beneath his collar. "I'll see you in 3 months"

"Stay safe soldier"


	3. The Gruesome Twosome

Thanks to all readers and reviewers x

* * *

Stella, 

Arrived safe and well. Currently in the mess with a few minutes of email time to contact home.

I hope all is well and that my replacement is settling in. Don't be too hard on him/her, they're new - they might not react as lightly as I towards a semi-automatic wielding 'Rambo Stella'.

We're stationed in a small town, who seem to be hospitable to us, for the most part.

Stay safe, with love,

Mac

---

He never was good at lying. Or was it that Stella could read him like a book?

For him to remember the gun…incident, meant he'd been reminiscing, thinking of home - missing home.

'For the most part' signalled all wasn't quite as rosy as some would lead you to believe.

But he said 'safe and well'. That was the important thing.

X

Clinging to her smouldering coffee cup like a life-line, Stella stalked the halls, still unable to shake the January New York chill.

Her instinctual glance into Mac's office brought her to a halt. It had stood empty for nearly a week now, the search for a temporary supervisor proving hard on next-to-no notice.

But now a man walked about, opening drawers, flicking through files, disrupting Mac's space.

She took the steps, trying to fight the initial dislike for when she had a reason. "Can I help you?" she asked, swinging the door open and reclaiming the office with her unrelenting stance, her cup still in hand.

The man turned to her voice. He was what you'd diplomatically call 'heavy set' with more hair peeking through his open-collar shirt than sat on his head.

Even on this freezing winter morning he was sweating, sending a glistening film to his skin, not to mention dark patches to his washed-out white shirt and a greasy layer to what hair he had.

"You must be Bondasera" he said, a grubby smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"_Bonasera_" she replied, through clenched teeth. There was the reason she was looking for. He thumbed through a file as if he cared, "You're right"

'_Of course I'm right, Jackass'_ she thought.

"I'm Jimmy Palmer" he sat down in Mac's chair and leant back. His accent wasn't definable, but she knew she'd soon get sick of hearing it.

"Welcome to New York"

"Listen, lets cut the pleasantries, Babe. I know all about what's been happening at this lab. Cops shooting cops, evidence planting and complaints filed…Now that all screams to me like a boss too friendly with his subjects"

"Subjects!" she took a step closer. Who did this guy think he was?

"So while I'm here, it's all gonna change, Tuts" he leant back again, hands clasped behind his bulbous head.

"Alright, just wait a minute. I am _not _'Babe' or -"

"-Candee!" he cut her off, jumping from Mac's seat like an excitable child.

"_Or _Candee!" Stella shouted. It wasn't until a woman passed her that she realised he wasn't calling _her _'Candee', and knew just how much trouble they were in.

"Bondasera-"

"-_Bonasera_"

"-This is Candeece Carlson. She'll be filling in the open spot while I'm here"

The girl, twenty years old if a day, stood at maybe 5'2", Stella thought, although with the heels she sported, probably 5'6". She stood in front of Palmer, claiming him as her own, while attitude emanated every pore. Her dark bangs, reminiscent of Uma Thurman in '_Pulp Fiction_' glossed bottle jet-black with Camero-red stripes.

Her dress sense screamed more street-corner than crime-scene, but the fake smile on her face told you not to bother questioning. "Charmed" she scowled

"Welcome to New York" Stella repeated, her teeth only slightly gritted.

Candee gave a tight smile and turned to Palmer. "Jimmy?" her fingers played over his arm, "Have you got the car keys?"

'_Oh brother, they're sleeping together' _she thought, rolling her eyes. '_What was that you were saying about too friendly bosses?_'

Palmer and Candeece shared a conversation that even to the untrained eye was intimate. It wasn't overtly sexual, but the implication was there.

"So that's how she got the job" Danny whispered to Stella, sneaking into the room.

Stella chuckled into her coffee, the noise alerting the 'couple'. "This is Danny Messer" Stella announced, trying to cover. They didn't seem convinced.

"Jimmy Palmer. This is Candeece Carlson" he said, gesturing to the woman.

"We've met" Danny said, while Candeece smirked.

Stella spun her head to him, a smirk on her own face and her eyebrows in her hairline. Danny closed his eyes and shook his head- it wasn't a memory he wanted to divulge apparently.

"Alright, I have a case for you all" he declared, shuffling pages on Mac's desk, oblivious to the look given from Candeece. He told of the address and status of the scene and handed the page to Stella.

"Me and Danny are on it" They turned to leave.

"Take Candeece with you, show her the ropes"

"…sure" Stella said, definitely through gritted teeth that time.

X

Danny pulled the escalade to a stop in front of the new scene. An adulteress wife shot in her own home. Obvious suspect: the husband, who was currently in the wind. Just another day.

Danny took the perimeter while Stella and Candee took the inside. _'Show her the ropes', huh? _Stella thought.

They took it slow at first, Stella taking the lead with the investigation. She questioned the next door neighbour, who heard 'nothing', then exasperatedly went onto examine the house itself.

Once they reached the kitchen, it got interesting. A bloody towel was found in the sink basin, Candeece said she 'had it'. Stella watched as she took a plastic bag out of her kit, open it up and go for the sodden cloth.

"Whoa, hold it! What're you doing?"

"Collecting the evidence"

"Not in that you're not" she snapped, taking a paper bag out of her own kit. She put the towel into the bag and sealed it up. "Moist cloth in a plastic bag seals in the bacteria, disintegrating any possible evidence we could find" an edge evident in her voice.

"…Oh" Candeece muttered, actually looking embarrassed.

Stella moved on, tagging the evidence and putting it by her case. They circled the room, finding the odd fingerprint smudge and/or blood splatter.

Stella had calmed down from the sink, and Candeece had done a good job of lifting a print from the door handle. But that was discredited when she went to extract a bullet with metal tweezers. "What're you doing?"

"Getting the bullet. We might be able to link the striations to the husband's gun-"

"-no, I mean, what're you doing with metal tweezers? They'll add different markings to the jacket of the bullet, rendering any ballistics hopeless" she tried to stay calm, and was priding herself on just how calm she sounded, when really she wanted to tear 'Candee's arms off and beat her over the head with the soggy end. Yep, that would do it.

That feeling was only emphasised when Candeece went to use Luminol to enhance a bloody handprint. By now, Stella was just getting tired of having to bail her out. "_Not _Luminol" she handed her another bottle, "Use the Leuco Crystal Violet".

"The what?"

Stella sighed, "How long have you been a CSI?"

"I graduated a last year"

"It's only January"

Candeece shrugged.

"_Right_." Stella peeled off her latex gloves with a resounding smack and threw them into an empty evidence bag. "Well, I'm going to have to talk to Palmer about this"

"About what?" she snarled

"Your inexperience and especially the fact that you nearly cost us evidence 3 times, Candeece"

"Oh, whatever!" she whined, storming off in a huff.

"Whatever" Stella mouthed. '_Very mature' _

On her way out, Candeece nearly bumped into an entering Danny at the door. He twisted to the side just in time, watching her bounce off. "Where's she off in such a rush?"

"Palmer, I bet"

"On her own?"

"She needs to sulk"

"What'd you do?" he asked, his voice not as surprised as she'd have hoped. In fact, he sounded like he'd expected it.

"I didn't do anything! No, scratch that, I did _everything._ That girl has no idea how to work a scene. I had to save our asses three times in there!"

"'_Our_' ass?"

"Her ass"

"That's what I thought you said" he grinned. He didn't like the situation anymore than she did, but they had to learn to deal with it. After all, this was going to be it for the next 3 months.

"C'mon, lets get back to the lab"


	4. Perserverance

Hi all, Thanks to y'all for your reviews x

This chapter is slightly different to what I had already written, in fact, it's completely different lol I'm not one to refute advice, and I realise I may have neglected some finer point to this story.

It's not that I forgot to write things, like Mac's whereabouts, but I wrote about 6 chapters of this before I posted the first, so things like that were cleared up at a later date, but without psychic abilities, you wouldn't know that! Duh!

So this chapter is a tie-up of all the loose ends encountered so far. It doesn't change too much to future chapters, so the story is still intact and how I envisioned it.

Thanks again, Becs x

* * *

Mac,

So great to hear from you! Everyone misses you and sends their love.

The lab is doing fine. I'm taking good care of it.

As for the Temporary Supervisor (I refuse to say 'Replacement') - he is an ass. He only moves from your office for coffee and donuts!

We're basically down to two men - and that's including Palmer's temporary replacement for Aiden (The most useless piece of trailer trash if I ever saw some).

But I am not reverting to 'semi-automatic wielding 'Rambo Stella'', thank you very much. I'm staying calm, collected and, dare I say, cool?

Don't worry.

Stay safe, soldier. With love

Stella

P.S. Graham from the Garages is having another baby. I swear he's going for his own football team.

---

"When did you get this?" Danny asked, taking another sip of his beer.

"I found it in my inbox when I got home last night." Stella replied, taking the printed email back.

Sullivan's was relatively quiet, save for some cops from the 55 Division on the far side. Stella and Danny occupied a table in a corner, relaxing after another taxing day.

"Did you reply?"

"Yeah, I just told him about Palmer and Carlson. Oh, and Graham from the Garages. Jus the regular drabble as if he was here."

Danny nodded his understanding. "Still no clue where he is?"

"Not one. He says he's not allowed. I don't appreciate it, but I think I understand. I don't want him in trouble, so I didn't pry when he said it was 'classified'."

"It seems so…historic to do that now."

"I know. Sometimes I wonder if it's just Mac not telling me. Maybe he thought that if he didn't tell me where he was, I wouldn't be scouring new broadcasts for that place, y'know?" A twinkle in her eyes told Danny she believed that scenario more than she was letting him believe.

"You really think he'd do that?"

"I don't know what to think anymore. I mean, he's over there, somewhere, seeing and living things a thousand times worse than anything you and me see here. And it's not his first time of living it." She sipped her wine. "He doesn't think I see how much it still affects him, but it does. Like when Ellan Valasquez died and Mac went loco in the interrogation. We were watching through the mirrors, but whatever that was, it was not something we see everyday."

"So you don't really think this town is 'hospitable' then?"

"Not a chance. He's saying what we want to hear."

"I thought so too. You gonna call him on it?"

Stella shook her head. "No way. This is his way of protecting us."

"How d'ya think he'd take our newbies?" He asked with a knowing smirk.

"Oh they'd have had a serious talking-to by now." Stella smirked back.

"I've been on the receiving end of Mac's talks. They're not fun."

"I know. I've had a few myself in my time."

"I think he'd have marched up to Highbourne by now too. I know the Chief's an ass at times, but what possessed him to hire those two?"

"I did a bit of asking around and it turns out Palmer is pretty well known in some circles. He handled that Jersey Senator murder a few years back."

"I think I remember that case. It turned out it was the girl who stabbed him?"

"Yeah. He convicted her in record time. Did a good job by all accounts, but is still kind of riding those coat-tails. Leaning back and basking in the glory."

"So Highbourne figured he'd get a 'celebrity' of sorts to take over while Mac is away. Got to be good for the reputation."

"Exactly"

"But what of Carlson then? Riding his coat-tails and more?"

Stella grimaced at the thought, "I think so. She's barely out of college, but has Palmer's attention and recommendation."

"Sleeping her way up CSI."

"Wouldn't be the first one."

"So, what? We let it slide for the next few months until Mac's back?"

"I think so. I mean, neither one of us are really in Highbourne's good-books. Different reasons, but still, I think our credibility is wearing thin."

"So…to perserverance?" Danny held up his bottle.

"Perserverance. For us and Mac."

They clinked drinks.


	5. Onwards and Upwards

I'm getting increasingly worried about my state of mind recently. Not only did I find an NY episode 4 months after receiving it looong stupid story but I didnt post a chunk of chapter 4! I swear, I wonder sometimes...

So, if y'all would like to go back a chapter, you should find a reply email from Stella to Mac, which would make the 'Graham in the Garages' part of the chapter make sense. Apologies!

Anyhoodles, chapter 5. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to everyone for their reviews and kind words xxx

* * *

Stella,

Glad everything is still in one piece, though the 'Temporary Supervisor' sounds like a piece of work - stay 'cool'.

I'm doing well, even if I am aching in places I never knew I had, or at least hadn't felt since my early days. Nothing a good nights sleep and a Massimo's pizza wouldn't heal.

We're moving on tomorrow, so I don't know when the next email will likely happen. If I'm able, you know I will.

Stay safe (and cool). Love to all,

Mac

---

Danny found Stella taking a well deserved rest in the break room. They'd wrapped up their latest case in record time (thanks to a particularly impressive interrogation by Flack) and, as of yet, no new ones had come in.

She lay spread out on the couch, head propped up on the arm, empty coffee cup on the floor next to her. Her attention was tuned to a CNN report about the overseas efforts. Mac said he wasn't allowed to mention where he was stationed, a rule Stella didn't appreciate but could vaguely understand. She had this vision of watching the news and seeing Mac in the background just doing some mundane job- loading a truck or something. As stupid as it sounded, she needed to see him moving. Is was all well and dandy reading that he was fine, but she needed to see it.

"Comfy?" Danny asked, smirking as he passed her for the coffee pot.

A mumbled reply of sounds came as a reply.

"Anything new?" he asked, motioning to the television set.

"Nothing we didn't already know."

"Sleeping on the job are we, Stella?" a new voice asked from the door way. She tipped her head to see the speaker. _'Crap' _she thought, seeing none-other than Chief Highbourne with a semi-permanent scowl on his face.

"Not sleeping, sir, just taking a break," she tried to smile, reluctantly sitting up from her comfortable position.

"Yes, well, can I see you in my office, please? Now." he escaped, not waiting for an answer.

"What'd you do this time?" Danny asked, that same expectant voice from the crime scene last week.

"Very funny," she sassed, making her way to the Chief's office.

She stepped off the elevator on the higher floor and walked straight ahead. It was wrong that she was able to notice Highbourne had moved some things around, and gotten a new chair. A nice maroon leather Lazy-Boy with arms, _'Showing who's boss?' _she couldn't help but think.

He gestured to a seat opposite him.

"Okay," he said, shuffling papers. Being summoned to Highbourne's office meant only one thing: Complaints had been filed.

"Who filed?" Stella asked, cutting to the chase.

"Filed?"

"Yeah, you know, complaints against me. Wouldn't be the first time, although I cant think who it could be this time…"

"No one's complained…" he said, leaning back into the chair. "Yet."

'_I knew he was going to say that.' _

"That isn't why I called you up here."

"Oh." she said, surprised, and just a little confused. If it wasn't a complaint, and probable suspension, what was it?

"I wanted to get an update on our replacement Supervisor and CSI."

"The _temporary _Supervisor and CSI," Stella corrected. Mac was coming home, so Palmer wasn't a replacement, purely a temporary.

"Er, right. Anyway, how are they settling in?"

"What do you want me to say? That they're doing their part and pulling their weight?" she snarked, sitting back, crossing her arms and legs.

"I take it that wouldn't be the truth?"

She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.

"I take that as a 'no.'"

"If you want the truth, and don't see me overstepping the mark…Palmer is useless, he hasn't stepped foot out of that office unless it was for a coffee and a fresh donut, or to sneak into the broom cupboard with Carlson - and don't think I'm just saying that. Oh yes, the boss is getting very 'friendly' with our favourite rookie. And Candeece? Has _not_ got a clue. Danny and I have been doing not only our own jobs, but her's too. She barely knows the fundamental basics of Crime Scene Investigation and it's _really _getting old." Stella knew she should probably stop talking, but it just wouldn't stop coming. "If you really want to know what I think, not only should you get rid of Palmer and Carlson before this lab is jeopardised beyond belief, but Danny Messer should go back on the promotion grid. He's been _amazing_ through all of this, and deserves the recognition. But we really cant do this alone. So while you're searching for a new Temporary Supervisor, you need to get _at least _2 new CSI's in, with experience if possible."

"…you done?" Highbourne asked, slightly amused that Stella had not only spoken her mind, but said it all very very fast.

"…yes." she sheepishly said.

"Okay, well, I thought you were going to say that. You may think I just sit up here all day long answering calls and suspending people," Stella didn't flinch, "but I still know what's going on down there in the lab."

'_He didn't deny that he does sweet FA' _she thought with a smirk

"And, believe it or not, I had a feeling about Palmer and Carlson when I hired them."

"Why did you hire them in the first place then?"

"Because Day Shift was down to you and Messer. And Palmer was actually a decent CSI in his day. He came highly regarded."

"Yeah, well, it was still me and Messer even _with_ Palmer and Carlson here."

"I realise that now, and I have a solution. I'm not going to hire another Supervisor-"

Stella cut him off "-What? We cant do this alone. We need somebody-"

"- let me finish?"

"Sorry," she muttered, feeling six years old again arguing with the sisters about going to Church.

He sat forward, leaning his elbows on the wooden desk. "I'm not going to hire another Supervisor, _because _I'm promoting you to that position. Until Taylor comes back of course, by which time we'll have to come up with another scenario. As for Messer, he's promoted to CSI2. He has shown great improvement these last few weeks. Whether that's under your supervision, I don't know, but like you said, he deserves the recognition. I already have 2 new CSI's due to start Monday, if you need anymore, we'll have to sort something out. Will that suffice?" he cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah, I think so," Stella scoffed, her eyes wide.

"Good. I'll leave it to you to inform Messer of his promotion, and I'll get Palmer and Carlson up here now and tell them their fate." He stood up from his chair, stretching out his hand to a still dumb-struck Stella. "Oh, and I've called Swing Shift in early. They said they were more than willing to relieve you and Messer from an extra hour or two. I think they've met Palmer," he smiled.

Stella chuckled, shaking his hand. "Thank you."

"Don't screw it up."


	6. A little Valentine's Surprise

Well **Happy Valentine's Day** all! This is...well, I dont know what this is, but it came to me while stuck outside in the cold courtesy of yet another fire alarm in my student digs. Got to love them! ¬.¬

Anyhoo, this is just a quick little Valentine's present from me to thee for y'all being so gorgeous with your reviews. I cant thank you enough! So anyway, this doesnt exactly fall into what I had planned, but it found a hole in my brain and sat there until I could get to my computer.

Special thanks to Sammie Dizzy-Dreamer for the tidbits and the 5am text ;) Love ya hun xx Get betterer too! xx

* * *

It was probably the sound she hated the most.

Some might say nails down a chalkboard, others would say phones in a movie theatre (even if they're just on vibrate), but for Stella it was the sound of an alarm clock waking her up on a cold Tuesday morning.

Of course, the sound was equally annoying on Wednesday through Monday, but this Tuesday was Valentine's day to boot. She could remember the days when she'd wake up on February 14th to breakfast in bed from a then boyfriend; or even just to the actual boyfriend, instead of the uninviting chill of a half empty mattress.

_It's just another day_, she told herself, trying to stop dwelling on the fact that the only things waiting for her in the mailbox were utility bills and religious pamphlets. _Just another day._

Stella thought about what actually lay ahead on this 'normal' day. Chad would have no doubt affixed paper hearts over the lab again, and everyone would have happy smiles on their faces courtesy of their loved ones.

And not to mention it's Crime of Passion Day for New York City! Kill one loved one and probably kill another!

Valentine's Day sucks.

Oh, wait, she has a new sound to add the 'Most Hated' list, the doorbell.

Stella twisted under the covers to read the clock. Who would be at the door at 7.30am?

She threw the duvet back with a grunt and padded over to the door, smoothing down her hair as she went. When she reached the door, she tried to relax her eyes from the early morning scowl, to not much avail.

"Stella Bonasera?" The man asked. He was dressed in a navy blue shirt with matching shorts and his blue baseball cap bore the words 'iFlorist'. It was then that she noticed the bouquet of flowers under his arm.

Actually, they weren't exactly a bouquet, but a beautiful pale pink vase with lilies and carnations cascading down the sides. "Ms Bonasera?" he asked again.

"Yeah, that's me" she managed to utter, taking the clipboard from his outstretched hand. She signed her name and gave it back, as he passed her the flowers.

"Happy Valentine's Day" he smiled, jogging back to the van. No doubt he had a million other deliveries to do today.

"You too" she chuckled, closing the door. She put the vase on the side table, finally able to give them a proper look.

They really were gorgeous. Different shades of pink, lilac and reds shone from the green borders at varying stages of life. But it was the fragrance they expelled that was the most beautiful.

In her perusal, she spotted a card buried deep within the floral array.

_Stella, _

_I couldn't let you wake up today with the usual grumpy Valentine's mood, especially when I'm not there to snap you out of it. _

_Thank you for everything you're doing for me, I will make it up to you somehow, I promise._

_See you soon,_

_All my love, _

_Mac_

Well that's a turn up for the books! Mac 'snapping her out of it' usually meant a coffee and Galaxy chocolate bar from the Break Room vending machines. And even though a Galaxy was her favourite, this definitely, without a doubt, surpassed all other Valentine's Days.

A smile had spread across her features and she was suddenly more awake and happy than she'd been at this time for years. She'd forgotten just how much of a sweetheart Mac could be at times. When Claire was still alive, that side of him was pretty much a constant, but since…not so much.

Stella fingered some of the flowers, relishing in the satin texture, before pulling a small selection from the vase. She didn't remove enough to make a big gap in the display, but enough to make a colourful addition to Claire's grave site.

It seemed only right to give some to Claire, this being the first Valentine's Day when Mac couldn't do it himself.

She'd do that later. Right now, she was going to have a shower, some breakfast and a generally great day.


	7. Replacements: Take Two

Okay, so the fanficflash of the Valentine's chapter, kinda screwed with the time-line, so even though chapter 6 was set on a tuesday...this is set on a monday. Hey, I'm writing this, so I can do things like that :p heehee

Again, cant thank y'all enough! x

* * *

Mac,

Great news! Palmer and Carlson are out! Highbourne called me up to his office and actually heeded advice. They're out, I'm the new Temporary Supervisor and Danny's promoted to CSI2! Carlson wasn't too happy, she growled a little bit as she passed me in the car lot, but at least we're not doing her job as well anymore.

Highbourne's bringing in reinforcements too. Apparently we've got two rookies due Monday. As for their experience, I was promised they had at least graduated college, which I'm pretty sure is more than can be said for Carlson.

Danny's over the moon at his promotion. You should have seen his face. I think he called Aiden straight away. They're so cute together, and Danny say's it's going well (like we didn't all think that years ago).

Anyway, I'll have a Massimo's pizza ready and waiting upon your return, and a Sullivan's Irish Coffee.

Stay safe, soldier. With love,

Acting Supervisor, Det. Stella Bonasera

(I could get used to that)

---

Monday morning and Stella Bonasera swung opened the heavy glass doors to the office she would call her own for the next 2 months. She breathed a happy sigh as she sank into the chair, putting her coffee and files on the desk.

That pang of smug glee was slightly lessened when she noticed just how much had changed in the office thanks to Palmer.

Not only was the desk chair lower and lumpier (no longer moulded to Mac's body), but his pictures and even his cold case files were missing.

Hergreen eyes narrowed as she rifled through the drawers in search, finally finding them in the deep ones to the left. They weren't even respectfully stowed away, but haphazardly thrown. She pulled the photograph frames out and stacked them on her knees, sorting them the right way round and having a reminiscent glance at them as she went.

The first picture wasn't one that gave first-handed memories, but she'd heard plenty of stories and gazed into the photo enough times. Mac looked so handsome, and so happy, in his tuxedo, and Claire? Breath-taking in her creamy white gown, accentuated with white and pink lilies in her bouquet and shimmering blonde hair. They were already married, and sickeningly happy, when Stella moved up from Narcotics. They were in it for the long haul. The familiar twinge of sadness rolled through her as she remembered Mac after the tragedies. She gave it a bittersweet smile before standing it up on the desk behind her.

Next was a photograph from Christmas 2000. This one she knew, because it was Stella that had taken it. It was the Christmas party in Brucciani's; Danny had just joined the team, and little did they know that they'd lose not only Claire, but fellow NY CSI Bobby Sinclair, in the Trade Centre Attacks, resulting down the line in Aiden's arrival. But that party was the last time everyone was together, and they'd made the most of it.

In this particular photograph, Claire was sat across Mac's knee's, her red dress flowing over the both of them. They had started off in a smiling pose, until Mac whispered something Stella probably didn't want to hear, that caused Claire to howl with laughter. The camera caught the scene at the perfect moment. Even if you didn't know the circumstances, you couldn't help but grin at the capture.

She placed the frame next to the wedding shot.

The third photograph elicited a grin from Stella. It was taken at the last Christmas party, this one in Sullivans. Thanks to Tequila slammer contests from Danny, Stella and Aiden were slightly worse for wear. Jane Parsons, also 'enjoying herself', had convinced the girls to back up to each other, fingers as make-shift guns a la _Charlie's Angels, _while the guys looked on in merriment.

This picture stayed on the desk in front of her, she decided, smiling as she put it pride of place.

Next she dragged out the cold case files. Part of the essence of Mac Taylor was his unwavering loyalty and passion. Although that makes him sound like a Labrador, he stops at no lengths to get to the bottom of a case, capture those responsible and bring justice to the victims. But he'd never cross the fine line of legality, which made the manila folder on top of the pile all the more poignant: Regina Bowen.

She cleared the spot in the corner of the desk and dropped the heavy pile. 10 folders. He'd acquired another since he told Stella about the 9 that used to be 12. She picked up her own cold case folders, only 2 so far, and lay them across Mac's in a different direction. She might as well keep a check on any developments for all of them.

The remainder of the coffee she'd brought with her had gone cold already. The office was organised and back to normal, so she might as well treat herself to another cup before the newbies arrived.

Xx

Danny's addiction to the black stuff never ceased to amuse Stella. She'd often been tempted to change the coffee to Decaf for a week, then back to full caffeine secretly and see what he'd do. Of course, that would mean her own coffee wouldn't have the same kick, hence why she'd yet to do it.

"You want a snorkel?" She chuckled, watching Danny's nose dip further into the cup.

He shot up, surprised having not heard her entrance. He looked at her with heavy, blood-shot eyes, hazier from their usual crystalline blue. "Huh?"

"You. Snorkel. Want one?" she smirked, pouring out the cold coffee and replacing it with the fresh steaming batch from the pot. "Celebrations?"

He blinked, struggling to open his eyes again. "Aiden will be the death of me."

"I didn't need to know that."

"No, no, she brought Tequila over to my place," he said, peeling off his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes.

"On the eve of your first shift as a CSI2?"

"No, on Friday," he growled, downing the rest of his coffee, oblivious to the burn it must have caused.

She whistled, trying not to chuckle at the grimace of pain from the hung-over colleague. "You going to be alright to work?"

"Not a problem. Couple more coffee's and some Aspirin, and I'll be sorted."

Somehow Stella wasn't convinced, but knew today was going to be very, very fun. She was about to 'accidentally' drop something very loud, when Stacy from the front desk spoiled her fun.

"Stella? The new guys are waiting in your office."

"Okay, thanks Stace," Stella smiled, taking a deep breath before embarking on her first official duty as Temporary Supervisor.

Xx

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Stella smiled, throwing the office door open and greeting the waiting couple. She took a seat. "I'm Detective Stella Bonasera, welcome to New York." She hoped the 'Welcome to New York' speech would end up better than the last time she'd said it.

She was greeted by smiles and "Thanks" from the man and woman opposite her. Stella had had a quick read through their files that Highbourne had passed along earlier that morning, and they sounded miles better than their predecessors, but this was the first meeting.

The woman, who Stella remembered was called Roberts, looked pleasant enough. Her shoulder-length auburn hair set off her high cheek bones nicely and brought out green tints in her brown eyes. Her grey business suit said professional, but the sparkling brooch gave it a younger feel, perfect for her 25 years.

As for the man, his dark hair was pulled back in to a short ponytail, and when added to his goatee beard, he exuberated Rocker chic.

"Okay, so I feel like a bad game show host, but what's your name and where'd you come from?"

"Natalie Roberts, " the woman pointed at herself. "I followed my husband here from Baraboo, Wisconsin, when he got transferred in his job. Erm…" she shrugged with her hands. "I've worked with the crime lab in Madison for the past 2 and a half years."

He took that as his cue, "I'm Connor Jackson, I followed my husb-no, I'm just kidding," he smirked, revealing shining white teeth, "I'm a Jersey native, and I believe you've met the reason I moved up here."

Stella looked at him, questioningly.

"My boss back home? Jimmy Palmer."

"Enough said."


	8. Where It All Falls Into Place

Hey all! So many apologies for the two-week wait! I had a vacation from college, and was watching my year-old niece for that time, so writing/updating was near impossible. Then, what little I had written, I left at home while I moved back to college! So it was one big screw up, but, alas, here it is!

I hope this lives up to all the amazingly gorgeous reviews y'all have left me. I cant thank you all enough!

One thing I do have to mention though, any names or places that are non-canon are purely coincidental if similar to outside sources. I havent named Natalie or Connor after anyone, nor are they based purely on one person.

I'll leave you in peace now ;)

* * *

Mac,

I hope everything is okay. I know you said it might be a while until you could get in touch again, but you know how I worry sometimes.

Not a lot to report on this front. The rookies, Natalie and Connor, turned out better than could be expected. They're young enough to do all my running (you know how I loath to run) but experienced enough to know their jobs. I think at least one of them will be a worthy replacement for Aiden, if not both.

What else…

I think that's my lot. And I see I _really _have to get out more if that's all I have.

We all miss you. Stay safe soldier,

Stella

---

"Okay, okay, I'll give you the 'Godfathers'," Connor surrendered, "but I still stand by 'Reservoir Dogs'" he drank the last of his beer with a smirk.

Danny grinned, feeling very good for himself as he said "Goodfellas"

"Oh, _classic_"

"Boys, boys," Natalie intercepted, "who's up for another round?" she held up her empty glass.

It had quickly become a regular thing: drinks in Sullivan's after work at least once a week. Not only was it a staple that anyone in the New York Law Enforcement know the bar intimately, but it gave Stella and Danny a chance to get to know their new colleagues better. And vice versa.

Stella, recently, had become a reluctant participant. It wasn't that she didn't try, or even turn up, she'd just been increasingly distant of late. Everyone knew the reason, although none verbalised it with her: Mac hadn't been in touch for over a month.

Danny motioned to a standing Natalie that Stella hadn't touched her last drink, so probably wouldn't want another just yet. Connor said he'd help her with the order, excusing himself while Danny tried to bring his supervisor back to the land of the living.

He twisted in his seat, assessing the situation. The steady rise and fall of her chest with the occasional blinking of her eyes was the only movement she exhibited, although you knew, in that brilliant mind of hers, it was working overtime and then some. Her arm was bent over the back of the pew seat, her head resting on her balancing hand. She gazed out of the window, not quite focussing on anything, not quite caring either.

"Stel? Stella?"

Hearing her name snapped her from her reverie. She turned to look at Danny, feeling a grapefruit-sized crick in her neck. She kneaded it with her hand, apologising as she went. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" She noticed that Natalie and Connor were missing, but noted their jackets still over their chairs – they mustn't be far.

"How long?" Danny asked, ignoring her question in favour of his own.

"What? How long?"

He didn't answer, didn't flicker from her eyes.

Stella sighed as she answered, "4 weeks, 2 days."

"You know he's alright, Stella."

"Yeah…yeah I do, but…"

"But he's still not been in touch for 4 weeks and 2 days."

"Exactly." She sipped at her wine.

"Listen, okay? Mac…is a fighter. He's over there, somewhere, thinking the exact same thing: that he needs to get in touch. He said in his last email that he didn't know when he was going to be able to next, but he'll be just as antsy as you are. If … if anything _had _happened you'd know by know. Mac is fine. He won't back down from a fight until he's won."

Danny's speech didn't quite have the desired effects. "That's what worries me."

Xx

It wasn't long after Danny's pep-talk that Stella excused herself from the party. She wasn't much company, and hated feeling that she might be bringing the other guys down with her. When she got out of the bar, she searched the street, hoping to a bright neon sign telling her what to do; where to go; who to see.

No such luck.

The streets were relatively empty, and the impending dusk was casting eerie glows against the asphalt and buildings. She braced her bag between her knees and slipped her brown leather jacket across her shoulders. Okay, that killed some time, but a destination now was still an issue.

Home? Curl up on the sofa with a George Clooney movie and a pint of Phish Food?

Office? Finish some of the never-ending paperwork (How does Mac do it?) and maybe crash with her head on the desk and a crick in the morning? Again?

Mac's? Water the plants; turn some lights on so the outside public didn't know it was empty? He also needs his mail organising…and his fridge clearing out…and…and…a million other things. Yep, Mac's it is.

Stella turned on her heel, walking a little distance before a cab pulled up. She gave the driver Mac's address and sat back, watching as night slowly encroached deeper on to the city.

Xx

Stella was stood on the front step, mail under her arm as she searched for the right key on the fob. She could barely remember what most of them were for, but finally spotted Mac's and slipped it into the lock and opened the door.

The first port of call was the heater. Empty house plus New York weather was a killer.

She dropped her things on the kitchen table and crossed to the fake cupboard, pipes rattling as it booted up.

She added the new mail to the pile, skimming through it in case anything urgent turned up. Nothing did.

She sighed, at a loss of what to do now that she was there. Her reasoning of clearing out the fridge was specious (she'd done it a few weeks ago), and the organising of the mail had already been done. So now what?

She crossed to the living room, turning the TV on at the set as she went.

Although the latest episode of some inaccurate crime show was on, Stella's mind was racing ten-to-the-dozen.

What was she doing? Why was she in Mac's place when Mac wasn't even there? Was it really because she needed to collect the mail?

If it was just to collect the mail, why hadn't she gone now? Mail was collected, yet she'd turned the TV on, settled herself on the couch and took off her boots. What was she hoping to find?

What was with her the last few weeks too? Yeah, sure, Mac hadn't been in contact, but he was at war for God's sake. It isn't like there's an internet connection at every turn. But…well, she'd seen this kind of behaviour before. The lonely wife skulks and scorns until the reappearance of her loved one. That was the thing, though… 'wife'… 'loved one'…

She'd been friends, hell, _best _friends, with him for so long, had those feelings really…_evolved_ to…_love_? Or, a more possible explanation, is she just missing him a hell of a lot?

If it was…_love_…well, that would explain why she wanted to be around his things: his home, his clothes, his couch. Not 'his clothes' in a stalker kind of way, but seeing his winter jacket hanging on the banister gave her a spell of comfort and peace, quickly reduced to fear and loneliness again.

It would make sense to a lot of other things too. The fact that people had always congratulated her on how well she'd 'helped' Mac after the 'incident', and said they didn't know if they could have done the same 'if I didnt…well, y'know'. She didn't know, then.

And how if she was invited anywhere, she was always told 'Bring Mac, if you want.' She'd always thought it was just because he hadn't been out much since Claire's death. Had they known? Been trying to push them in the right direction? Was it even the 'right' direction?

What if it was wrong? What if it was one-sided, if it was sided at all? What if Mac wasn't ready?

What if? What if? What if?

Stella snapped herself back to reality when a low grumble sounded from her stomach. She reached over to the table for the phone, punching in the number for the Chinese restaurant. Ordering her usual, correcting Chen when he said he'd send it over, and asking for a special favour of a bottle of wine from the store next door. If she wasn't such a good customer, he would have told her where to go and how fast to get there.

Chen knew Mac's place, so it wasn't long before the take-out arrived, wine in tow. She thanked him, gave some lame excuse and watched him drive off back to the restaurant.

Stella locked the door, turned off the outside light and settled into the couch for a night of Chinese and George Clooney, even if it was in a different house.


	9. Word From The Front

Thanks so much to y'all again, you're spoiling me! But muchly appreciated ;)

Special thanks to Sammie and Rosanna for the giggles annd squees xMwahx

* * *

Danny Messer was worried. And he didn't worry easily. 

Danny Messer was also certain he never wanted to be promoted to Supervisor. Not if it meant getting _that _office, at least.

He'd noticed recently just how much that office was, well, cursed. He'd gone through the evidence, and it was definitely cursed.

First? Mac Taylor was promoted, given that shiny new office, all was well. He was happy and he was married.

Then, tragedy strikes. Mac falls into the pits of despair and depression. Barely leaves the office, keeps a change of clothes in his locker and is all about the work.

Next? Stella Bonasera. Promoted, new office, all relatively good. Tragedy. Despair. Depression. Lives in that office, spare clothes in her locker and only swings by her place for her mail.

Yep, Danny Messer is never going to be Supervisor.

Xx

"Stella?" Natalie asked, peeking her head around the door.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, barely lifting her head from the paperwork she was busying herself with.

"Noth-okay, something is…" she began, taking a seat across from Stella. "Can I ask you a question? I know we've only known each other a couple of months but-"

"Sure," Stella chuckled, putting a stop to the ramble Natalie seemed to spout when she was uncomfortable. Luckily, she doesn't seem to be uncomfortable when with suspects. "Fire away."

She cast another worried glance over Stella's features; hergreen eyes no longer sparkled like they once had, but were underlined with multiple dark brooding circles. They reminded Natalie of emphasising a word in a letter by scribbling lines underneath, making sure attention was brought to it. Were Stella's eyes' natures way of bringing attention to her inner conflict? Either way, Natalie was worried. "When was the last time you slept? And I mean in a bed, not on that couch." She cast a thumb to the small sofa against the wall.

"I-" a bittersweet smile flashed across her sombre features, remembering the amount of times she'd asked Mac the exact same question. Of course, when Stella asked, Mac wasn't cut off by more ramblings…

"I know. You cant sleep, so you work. But not only is that not healthy, I'm pretty sure it isn't what Mac would want. Why don't you take a few days off? Catch up on some sleep, watch some TV, shred some paperwork…"

Stella had to admit, that sounded good. Even the shredding was appealing, although she would never do it. That was definitely one thing she'd gladly give Mac back when he returned, although he might just have to fight her for the office. "I'll sleep, and vacation, when I know he's okay."

"How long has it been now?"

"5 weeks, tomorrow."

"That's nothing, you know that, right? My friend's husband was gone for three months without so much as a postcard. She thought the worst, naturally, until he came bounding through the door… and into her fist. She broke his nose, she has a bit of a temper, but he knew he deserved it," Natalie gave a chuckle at the memory of her friends frantic phone call from the emergency room: _"Tommy's back! And I broke his nose…but he's fine and he's back!"_

Stella appreciated the talk, another one, but there was still that heaviness to her heart, telling her something was wrong. "It's long enough, though."

Natalie knew when she was defeated. "You sure I cant convince you to go home?"

"I'm fine, Nat, I promise. But thanks." She smiled.

"Okay," she sighed, standing up as the desk phone began to ring "But don't say I didn't try." She scrunched her nose up while Stella picked up the receiver.

"Bonasera?" she said, a chuckle to her voice.

"_Stella Bonasera?"_

"Yes?"

"_I'm Officer Tyman with the US Marine Corps. I have a 'Stella Bonasera' listed as next-of-kin for Major Mac Taylor?"_

Stella's mind raced, yet not a word came to mind as a response. Natalie sat back down, seeing the instant fear and dread cascade over her already worried features.

"_Ma'am?"_

"Yes, sorry. Yes, I'm the next of kin for Mac Taylor."

"_We've been trying to find you, Ms Bonasera. You've proven quite elusive."_

"What is this about?"

"_Oh, sorry. There was an incident involving Major Taylor's division approximately 48 hours ago_. _A Field Officer was injured in a raid, and left unprotected in a dangerous zone. Major Taylor left his post and shielded the officer from subsequent explosions."_

"Is he…?"

"_Oh no, Ma'am, I apologise. Major Taylor is alive. He's been in the infirmary since the incident, with his injuries. None are life threatening, but he is unable to continue with his tour. He asked that you be informed of his return to New York City at approximately Thirteen-Hundred-Hours tomorrow."_

Did she drop the phone? She could have sworn she'd dropped the phone. Her whole body felt limp, so she must have dropped the phone.

"Stella?" Natalie asked

"He's coming home."


	10. Home Front

As much as I love y'all for your _amazing _reviews, you're all making me worried that thiswont live up! I hope it does xmwahx

Huge thank you's once again!

* * *

She must have caught Chief Highbourne in an exceptionally good mood, because he actually allowed Stella to take a break! Well, not so much a break, as 3 days leave. He didn't mention it, but she was pretty sure it'll turn out unpaid to boot, but that doesn't matter. The time she'd spent as Supervisor meant a mini-pay rise, so she could afford it, if it really bothered her all that much.

It turned out that she hadn't actually dropped the phone the day before, nearly, but not quite. If Natalie hadn't have snapped her out of her delirious daze, she probably wouldn't have moved until 'Thirteen-Hundred-Hours tomorrow'.

Thirteen-Hundred-Hours.

1pm.

4 hours from now.

Stella couldn't quite pinpoint her emotions; they were racketing all over the place. She'd find herself smiling at nothing much, feeling happier than she had in a long time. Then, realisation would hit. Hit like a house. He'd been at _war._ There's no telling what that could have done to him. She'd seen the movies, it always had some major effect of some kind.

But then, he's already been at war. Done it all before and came out on the other side how Stella knew him when he left.

She has to stop thinking about it, it'll drive her crazy. She just has to get through the next 3 hours and 49 minutes, until that plane lands and Mac Taylor is back.

Xx

Stella climbed behind the wheel of Mac's Escalade. There was still at least an hour before his plane was to land, but she just couldn't sit still any longer. She'd already cleaned his house again, stocked the cupboards and refrigerator and pre-ordered a house special pizza from Massimo's. All she had to do now was pick him up.

She knew the streets of New York City like she knew her own house. The shortcuts, the back-streets, the alleyways. It was her city. So it didn't really surprise when she arrived at the airport in record time.

She parked as near as she could to the arrivals lounge, and threw the keys into her purse. This was it.

Stella double-checked the gate and time and fought her way through to the throng of travellers for a coffee and a sit down. She was able to nurse the drink for the majority of the wait and excitedly took off for Gate 32.

She shouldn't have been surprised by the amount of military wives in the arrivals lounge, but she was. There must have been easily 25 to 30 families. Children ran about, squealing with their new found friends, wives and mothers cried in anticipation while the fathers and brothers talked proudly of their loved ones achievements. Some children held signs with 'Dad!' or 'Officer Pops' scrawled on with crayons and smiley faces. Stella couldn't help but smile.

The flight was called over the PA system, and her heart jumped just a little. Ever since that night she'd spent at Mac's, it'd been doing that. She still wasn't sure what to make of it, but it was almost expected now.

Some marines and soldiers began to walk through the doors, grinning as their kids ran up into their arms. If she wasn't so preoccupied waiting for Mac, she'd have just watched with tears dripping down her face. Some men were escorted out in wheelchairs, ankles strapped, even a couple missing limbs. It was heart-breaking, but barely noticed by their families. They were alive. That was all that mattered.

Finally, a familiar face.

There he was.

Her eyes burned a little as tears threatened to fall. He was a sight for sore eyes.

A 5 o'clock shadow, that was loser to 8, framed his cheeks and chin, and his hair was a little longer than when he'd left. It suited him, she liked it.

His was limping a slight, and his left wrist was in a cast and left shoulder in a sling, but he otherwise looked perfect. A male flight attendant walked behind him, scowl on his face, pushing a wheelchair Stella guessed was for Mac. If he didn't need it, he wasn't going to take it.

Stella chuckled as she began to wave. Before she could even move her hand, Mac stopped dead, his head drooping, a smile across his lips. Oh yeah, he was back.

She manoeuvred her way through the crowds, finally finding breakthrough and smirked as she quick-walked the rest of the distance between them.

They just smiled at each other for a moment, letting the sight before them sink in. It was Stella who finally succumbed and threw her arms around him. He gave a little yelp of pain, but wound his good arm around her back, relaxing against the embrace.

"Mac…It's _so _good to see you…" She breathed, not letting him go just yet.

"It's good to be seen." he sighed, smelling the tropical coconut shampoo from the curls under his nose.

Stella pulled back, giving him a look up and down. He was in one piece, except for the bandages. She still gave him a dig on the good arm though, "You didn't email."

That was the Stella he'd missed.

Xx

The drive back to Mac's was just like normal. You would have expected gossiping, memories or talking in general, but they fell back into their comfortable silence. Stella would look over occasionally, just to make sure he was actually there. Mac was watching the sights pass by the car window, mouth agape slightly, as if seeing them for the first time.

When they pulled up into the driveway, Stella killed the engine and twisted to face the passenger, saying, "Welcome home."

Mac gave a content smile, but something flashed in those hazy green eyes of his, something she'd make sure she found out about later. First, he just needed to relax. Be home.

Stella unlocked the front door, opening it wide and putting the keys in the dish. Mac dropped his bag near the stairs and gave a look around, not unlike his perusal before his departure.

"Exactly how you remember it?"

"Better."

"I've put some food in the kitchen: bread, milk, the usual. And all your mail's on the counter. Do you want anything now? A drink? Sandwich?" Ever the mother.

"Just a shower," he said, holding onto the banister.

"Okay, I'll make us some subs for when you're ready."

Mac gave a nod and ascended up to the bathroom. Stella watched him go, trying to pinpoint what was different about him. Something was…

Xx

Stella was stooped over the kitchen sink, washing the cutting board and bread knife, when Mac entered the kitchen. She didn't know that he'd propped himself against the doorjamb for a minute or two, just watching.

It'd been so long. The other men would talk of their 'Girls' back home, some married them just prior to being shipped out, some promised the day they got back. Mac would keep quiet, or mention in passing about Claire's demise. A couple would ask if there was anyone else on the cards, anyone Mac liked, he said he wasn't sure he was ready. That was true, he _wasn't_ sure, but he'd had more than enough time to contemplate his relationships with people back home.

Rose was a nice woman: sweet, attractive, genuine. She was perfect for the first date, but he didn't think for anything more. Plus the fact that he'd been a mumbling fool on the actual date. She'd been nice enough about it, but he just wasn't comfortable. He always told himself it was because it was the first date he'd had in over 15 years, well, first _official _date. He'd had lunch with a woman on his own. Dinner too.

That woman being Stella.

It was then that realisation set in. He tried to deny it during his tour, told himself it was just because he was missing her, and the team of course, but…deep down? He knew.

He wasn't too sure what to do about it, but he knew. Seeing her when he got off that plane just emphasised it. She stopped him dead in his tracks.

Mac cleared his through, alerting her to his presence. Stella spun, drying her hands on a towel and smiled. She gestured to the plates on the table and took at seat.

They still hadn't spoken of …much of anything actually. She desperately wanted to hear he was okay. He looked fine enough, but Mac wasn't anything if not internal.

"So how are Palmer and Carlson turning out? Have you been 'cool'?" He gave a look that told her he didn't expect for one minute that she hadn't spoken out just a _little _bit.

"Erm, well, what was the last email you read?" He mentioned that the Gruesome Twosome had just arrived, so over a month ago. "They actually left." Stella tried to make it sound like it was of their own volition.

He didn't buy it.

"Okay, okay, so I had a word or two with Highbourne," she held her hands up in surrender, "but the important thing is they left. We got some rookies a few days later who have been fantastic." She took a bite of her sandwich.

"So you got promoted?"

"How'd you know? I didn't think you'd read my letters."

"I haven't, but that was what I recommended to the Chief. He said he'd think about it, I said you wouldn't be happy with new blood, he apparently didn't agree."

"Well, he did eventually. I even got Danny promoted to CSI2. You should have seen him, Mac, he's come along so much."

"Still dating Aiden?"

"Oh yeah. They're more inseparable now than before, if that's even possible."

"That's good. They always worked well together."

Stella nodded, eating some more and sipping her water.

"What about you? You been holding up okay?" she asked, hoping to ease him into talking.

"I've been fine. What are these rookies like?"

She wasn't totally oblivious to the subject change, but went along with it. "Natalie and Connor. Hard little workers bees. Great assets to the team, even if we only get to keep one."

"Any preference? Is one more promising?"

"Well, no, but Natalie's been married for 5 or so years."

"Newlywed." Mac nodding, understanding the implication that she'd probably be wanting to start a family soon.

After a while, Stella asked, "Did you manage in the shower? With your arm, I mean?"

"It was tricky, but I sorted it." He nodded, sipping the bottle of water. He hadn't really touched his sandwich.

"Can I ask what happened?"

"It's fine," he said, answering a different question.

Stella was starting to feel uncomfortable, something she hadn't felt with him for a while. He obviously didn't want to answer questions about what he'd been living, and she could sense that just one more question might send him-

"Listen, Stella, I don't want to talk about it, okay? I'm back, that's all that matters. Whatever happened is in the past, I just want to move on. Again. " his voice had grown edgier as he continued his rant. Mac grabbed his water and went into the other room, leaving a slightly startled Stella in his wake.

She watched him go. He didn't know it, or maybe he did, but she could read him like a book. He wasn't angry from the questions, or his memories or anything. He was feeling guilty.

He was home, while his men were still out there. His men, who he was ordered to protect, were still out there, while he was home eating a sandwich. He felt guilty for getting injured, no matter the means, and not being able to fulfil his duties. Stella could almost see him fighting with the nurses in the infirmary, demanding that he be sent back out. He still had one good arm, and you only needed one to fire a gun after all. Of course, he would have known that the backfire from said gun would cause immeasurable pain from his outstanding injuries. It wouldn't have stopped him though.

He would tell her the same in his own time.


	11. Yesterday

It is impossible to say how much I love you guys! All doubts about that last chapter not being up to par were seriously squashed and I cant thank y'all enough! I hope this one lives up :)

Also? I dont own Bon Jovi, 'cos if I did, lots of lovely and naughty things would be happening ;) x

* * *

When word got out that Mac was back, the phone hadn't stopped ringing. Friends from past and present calling to 'say hello', 'welcome back' and 'Get better, y'hear?'. He'd been very good, giving civilised answers, keeping his annoyance at bay. Why do people always love you when you nearly died? 

Mac had been back in New York for just over 24 hours, and he looked near breaking point. He hadn't slept the night before. When the Massimo's pizza arrived, Mac and Stella had settled onto the couch with a couple of beers and a movie. At around 10, she'd announced she would let Mac be alone and see him in the morning. He asked her to stay. She did.

They stayed up, flicking between TV shows and movies, but Stella eventually crashed. Mac carefully laid her down across the cushions and covered her with a blanket. He moved over onto the chair and watched her sleep for a while, before sitting out on the stoop.

Stella woke at what she guessed was close to 2am and Mac was nowhere to be seen. She went up to his bedroom quietly, but it hadn't been slept in, and the bathroom door was open, so he wasn't there. She found him sat on the step, staring at what stars he could see through the City lights.

Her hand was enclosed around the door handle, when she took a step back and decided not to disturb him. She fell back asleep not long after.

Mac had made her breakfast when she woke up. It was only toast and coffee, it was all he could manage one-handed, but she liked being able to eat with him again.

They discussed what the day ahead was to entail. Stella knew he just wanted to go to work and be back to normal, but there was no way that was going to happen until his arm was healed. He promised her he'd take it slow, so decided on just visiting Claire and grabbing Chinese on the way home.

Xx

Stella drove Mac to the florist, then to the Grave yard in late afternoon.

Walking down the flagstone path, they passed the varying tombstones symbolising infants to elderly.

They took a left at the bottom, underfoot changing to grass as they walked the short distance to Claire.

When they came to a stop, Stella drooped her head, feeling as if she was imposing on a private meeting between a man and his wife. She was, in essence. In her peripheral vision, she saw Mac smile his 'Hello' and sit down in front of the stone, flowers resting on his lap.

As she took a step back, giving them some space, Mac unwrapped the bouquet. The red roses and pink lilies fanned out in the paper. He took them one-by-one and slotted them into the vase, his eyes reading the stone for the umpteenth time.

Claire Susannah Taylor  
1965 – 2001  
Beloved Wife and Daughter  
_"'Til The Heavens Burst"_

The last line always got to him. Underneath the pretty and innocent, blonde exterior of Claire Taylor, stood leathers, biker boots and chains. She would have Bon Jovi and Heart blaring in the kitchen while she made dinner or washed up. Although it was a lyric from her favourite song, it also symbolised Mac's love. Another reminder that whatever Stella was feeling should be kept to herself.

"I'll get some water," She whispered, turning in the direction of the outdoor tap.

She barely got a step away when she heard Mac's voice. "I saw him go down, you know."

Stella slowly spun on her heel, unsure if it was actually meant for her. His gaze bore unwavering at Claire, but when he said "I couldn't just leave him there," and turned to look her, she knew. She moved back and sat on the grassy verge next to him, while he stared back into the distance again. He took a deep breath and slowly relayed the memory.

"We'd just driven into this little town. Kids were playing soccer in the street and came running to us asking for candy and sweets. We gave them what we could. We always did. The civilians were mostly hospitable to us. Of course, not everyone was, but you dealt with it as you could. Until gun shots rang out.

"All the civilians scattered, we took cover and tried to isolate the directions. Then, an explosion. When the dust cleared, some men were calling out that a man was down. That's pretty much to be expected, but to see him not 5 foot away and not being able to get to him without endangering your own life? That's a whole new experience and one I couldn't handle.

"I called for backup over the shots and shouting, asking the men to cover me. I ran to Stankevich and just dove on him as another bomb exploded. When the dust cleared again, I scooped him up and ran back to the truck and threw us both in the back.

"I looked him over. He was bleeding pretty badly. He had a through-and-through to the arm and a deep laceration across his left temple where a bullet just skimmed him, that I could see. I put pressure on his arm as he came in and out of consciousness.

"Suddenly, everything went quiet. They'd gotten the bomber and shooter on one of the rooftops: shot him down. Then they started shouting orders and the truck was moving back to base.

"Stankevich regained consciousness on the ride and told me I was bleeding. I just thought it was his at first, before I saw the steady trickle from my shoulder. It must have been the adrenaline that helped me to carry him to the truck, because as soon as I saw it, it hurt like hell. My wrist was broken too, from shrapnel from the bomb, and I hurt my ankle.

"When we got to the mobile infirmary, they took him off to surgery and I got sewn up. I was barely hurt compared to him. As soon as they patched me up, I was certain I was going back out. The nurses wouldn't let me. I know why…but it was so _frustrating _not being able to do anything. It still is."

Stella watched in awe as he told her more in one sitting than he ever had about his past travels and traumas. She thought it better that she didn't over-emphasise that fact, in fear Mac closed off again. "What…what happened to Stankevich?"

"I don't know, I never found out. I was shipped home before I was told." He fixed the sling around his wrist, giving a humourless chuckle as he said, "You know, I actual feel guilty for being here? I'm there Major, I'm there to protect _them, _and here I am…broken."

"You're not broken, Mac."

He had just _told_ her that she was right. He was feeling guilt rather than anger. And the look in his _eyes _told her that there was no way he'd be convinced otherwise, not for a while at least.


	12. The Prodigal Boss Returns

Wanted - Preferably alive - El Muso! She has deserted me again and has barely helped me with this chapter. The next 3? Written. This one? Ha! So huge apologies to you all. 

I have to send out huge thanks to Rosanna, Sammie and Kukrae for attempting to kick start El Muso with violence heehee

I spent ALL yesterday trying to upload this damn thing, and was telling me, albeit politely, to basically eff off. And now it works. I hate technology.

* * *

"Hi, I'm looking for a Mac Taylor? I believe he works here," the man announced to Stacy at the front desk. 

It took her a moment to find her voice, the intense stare from his green eyes was, well, intense. "He does work here, but he's on leave at the moment. I could direct you to Detective Bonasera though, she can relay a message."

"That'd be great, thanks." His smile was an even better feature, Stacy noted.

She pushed her small dainty glasses back up her nose and asked him to follow her. Now from the behind the desk, she could take in his impressive form with (hidden) pleasure. He was a giant, easily standing 6'2" to her 5'5". He was well defined, she could tell through her form-fitting black tee and jeans. If he had come into any place other than the NYPD building, his broken arm and plastered head would have been note-worthy.

Stacy guided the tall, blonde and handsome stranger to Stella's office and announced his arrival before returning to her post.

"Hi, Stella Bonasera, how can I help?" she smiled making her way around the desk and shaking his good hand.

"Wow," were his first words, quickly followed by an embarrassed shake of the head and smirk. "You heard that, right? Sometimes I think my brain and mouth aren't even connected."

Stella chuckled, flattered at the attention.

"I'm looking for Mac Taylor, I was told you could help?"

"He's on leave at the moment, not due back for a couple of weeks," she gestured for him to take a seat, while she returned to her own side of the desk. "What is it about? Maybe I can help."

"Oh, I doubt that. I need to thank him, he saved my life."

The proverbial light shone in Stella's mind, "You're not Stankevich, are you?"

"...yeah," he said, confused but amused.

"I've heard a lot about you. I should really be thanking you, you brought Mac back to us."

"I'm not sure nearly getting yourself and yourCommanding Officerkilled is something to be thanked for," he smiled sheepishly.

"Mac isn't one to bear a grudge and certainly not one like that. And you and everyone out there are definitely to be thanked."

"Well, bless you, Miss."

"Stella, please."

"Stella. Well, do you know how I might get in touch with him?"

"How long are you in town for?" she had an idea.

"I fly back to Ohio next week."

"Good. I'm getting our colleagues together tonight to welcome Mac back to society. Why don't you come? I know he'd like to see you. That is, if you don't mind being subjected to a barrage of questions about Mac as a Marine."

"I think I could handle that."

Xx

Getting Mac out of the house that night wasn't as hard as she'd anticipated. Driving back from the labs, she'd cooked up many an excuse to entice him to the bar, but he was practically ready and waiting when she had returned.

Stella was due back in work full-time the day after, and had only gone in for a few hours to spread the word of the party to Danny and the team. With Carl Stankevich's attendance, it might just be what Mac was looking for. If he could see that Stankevich is alive, thanks to Mac, and see all his friends around him, maybe he wouldn't see himself as 'broken' any more…

For a couple of hours that afternoon, she'd raced around the city getting things set up for her being back at work: clearing her desk at work, telling the team about the party and getting changed at her place before returning to Mac's.

Now she was en route to Sullivan's with Mac in the passenger seat, trying desperately to hide his nerves. He had nothing to be nervous about, and he knew it, but still they rattled through his body.

When they pulled into a space, and finally entered the bar, Danny was the first to welcome him back to business. He shook his hand and offered to buy him a 'proper' drink, seeing as how he couldn't before Mac left, but once again he was refused due to pain killers this time.

Stella gave a quick look around the room for Stankevich but didn't see him.

Xx

The table in the corner, that less than a week ago housed a day-dreaming Stella, now sat the old and new members of NY CSI.

Well, Aiden had challenged Danny to a game of pool, so they were flirting over cues and chalk at the other end of the room, and Flack was getting the drinks in, but the table was their station.

Mac was semi-interrogating a slightly worried Connor, while Stella looked on in amusement, and Natalie looked like she was dreading her turn with the Prodigal Boss. She was chatting to Hawkes, but stealing glances to the men when she could.

The door to the establishment swung open. Stankevich tottered up to the bar and seemed to ask Flack something, who nodded and gestured the group behind him. Carl thanked him and followed, carrying a beer with him.

It was then that Stella spotted him and smiled, nudging to Mac. "Hey, leave the poor guy alone and help with the drinks."

Mac was about to defend his actions when Stankevich came into his eye-line. He didn't move at first, just looked in amazement, before snapping himself out of it and squeezing past Stella.

Carl stood to attention before him. This caught the group's attention, even Danny and Aiden wandered back intrigued.

"Stand down, Sergeant," Mac said, appreciative for the respect, even when they were home. "We're not over there anymore, Carl."

"Yes sir," he said, shaking Mac's hand instead.

"It's good to see you."

"You too."

"You're okay? Healing?"

Mac ignored the whispers around them, all finally realising who the stranger was. Stella looked on with a grin.

"I am. Not as fast as I could hope though. You?" Carl asked, gesturing to Mac's bandages.

"Same. When did they release you?"

"Coupla days ago. You're my first port of call. I was hoping you'd let me buy you a drink? As a thank you for rescuing me out there."

"That was my job, Carl, you don't need to thank me."

"Yes I do," he chuckled. How could he downplay saving a life so much?

"What don't you join us, buy me one on the next round then?"

"Thank you, sir." He moved to follow Mac back to his seat.

"Don't call me 'sir'," Mac said while Stella stifled a giggle.

She watched as Mac introduced the table, seeing a slight difference in his demeanour. Relief? Gratitude? Peace?

Xx

Drinks and laughs had been a-plenty for the bar. Scores of police officers and workers were celebrating the end of shift with their friends, so the atmosphere was loud and very New York.

Mac had moved on to informally interviewing Natalie, leaving Connor to relax and chat sports with Hawkes and Flack. Stella was chiming in occasionally playing Devil's advocate to see how loud Flack would go when defending the Mets. Apparently, very loud.

She was chuckling when she walked to the bar, buying another drink.

Stankevich joined her, leaving Aiden to console Danny after another beating at pool (he was such a poor loser).

Stella gave her order to Joe and stood back, smiling at a friend.

"That Aiden's quite a girl," Carl announced, leaning a hip against the bar.

"Yeah…Danny thinks so too," she told him pointedly.

"Oh, no no, I didn't mean it like that."

She chuckled. How she loved to men flustered! "Girlfriend?"

"No, I was just planning on asking you for dinner instead."

"Now it's my turn to say 'wow'. Listen, Carl, I'm flattered, but-"

"You're going to say no? It doesn't have to be a date then, thin of it as a sight-seeing tour. I'm new to New York, so I'd like to go a nice restaurant, y'know? Of course, I'd prefer it if it were a date…"

Stella looked around, seeing Mac at the table chatting to Nat. She was kidding herself that Mac was 'over' Claire, or anywhere near ready to date. Let alone date her. And here was Carl. Definitely cute, slightly naïve maybe, but a sweet guy. 30, maybe 35? But would it be weird to date someone Mac served with? Well, whatever it was, it wouldn't be for all that long, he was off to Ohio soon after all.  
"Okay, sure. I'll go to dinner."

* * *

A/N: Huge thanks to Kukrae for ironing out my Marine mishaps ;) :) 


	13. Lunch

So, I got the feeling you didnt exactly like Stella's choice last chapter? lmao :p I wasnt planning on posting this for another day or so, but if I post it now, I just might work on my essay...yeah, I didnt believe me either.

* * *

"Mac? You here?" Stella called, twisting the key back out of his door. "Honey, I'm home!"

"Coming darling," he sassed back, passing her in the hallway.

"Hey," She smiled, following him into the living room. He sat down on the couch and flipped through take out menus, while she leant against the door frame. "I'm on my lunch, you want anything?"

"No, I'm good. I was thinking of abusing Massimo's for dinner tonight. You fancy Italian?"

"I fancyAntonioSabato Jr, but that's beside the point," she smirked, before turning serious, "I wont be making dinner tonight."

"You wont?"

"No, I have a date," she called over her shoulder, walking into the kitchen. Why was she so nervous?

"…Oh," Stella heard him say.

"Well, it's not so much a date," she took a bottle of water out of the fridge, "as a sight-see."

"A sight-see," Mac wasn't sure himself if that was a statement or a question. He came into the kitchen, putting the menus on the table.

"It could be a date. He said that was up to me. Either a sight-see or a date."

"Oh," he said again.

"He's new to New York. Wants to eat in an authentic restaurant before he leaves."

"It isn't…?"

"…Carl."

"Carl." he pulled a chair out and sat down.

"So I wont be here." she sat opposite him.

"Wont be here…" he reiterated, trying to get the notion of Stella and Carl through, or really out, of his head.

"Sausages."

"Excuse me?" What?

"I wanted to see if you'd repeat everything I said," she smirked, trying to lighten the atmosphere which had gathered.

"You cant date Carl." Well, he definitely didn't repeat _that _from her.

"What? Why's that?"

"He's not good enough for you," he stalked back into the living room.

She followed quickly asking, "And you know this how?"

"I spent 24 hours with him for nearly 2 months, Stella. I know him."

"That isn't a reason, Mac, and you know it. You cant tell me who to date." She was starting to get a little annoyed, and louder, at his evasive answers.

"I have _never _told you who to date, ever," He spun to face her. "I stood idly by when you dated Michael, Carter, Billy," he counted them on his fingers, "and I stood idly by when they hurt you. For that I apologise, but I'm not doing that anymore."

"You _know _Carl's going to hurt me," she said disbelievingly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know his type, the military's full of them: among other things, he has a girl at every port, left hanging by a whirlwind romance. He's not good enough for you, Stella, just like Michael, Carter and Billy weren't good enough for you."

"Is _anyone _good enough for me, Mac?" She couldn't believe he was coming out with this. She wasn't completely inept when it came to choosing partners. Michael, Carter and Billy, yes they'd hurt her, but they were just a few anomalies in a long list of decent men.

"No. No-one is good enough for you." He walked the room, still ranting. "Even I'm not good enough for you, and I love you."

Silence.

Mac stopped dead in his tracks. Had he said that out loud? Had she heard him?

"_You're_ not good enough for me?" she said, barely above a whisper.

She'd definitely heard him. His head drooped and a sigh escaped. "No." Mac turned to face her, though he couldn't bring up the courage to actually look at her, afraid of what he might see. "I'm a 45 year old widower who's still not sure he's ready for another woman in his life. I have a demanding job with no set time shifts, little or no social life and a bum arm. You deserve a lot more."

The proverbial tumbleweed swept through the room. He couldn't believe he was explaining his feelings to Stella. _Stella._ She was probably trying to think of the quickest way out of the house. Probably the labs as well. If he had made her leave, he'd never be able to live with himself.

"What if I don't want more?"

"_What_?" His head snapped up.

"Mac, I'm a 38 year old woman with no family and no particularly serious relationships to date. The only friends I have, I work with. I don't talk to anyone from my childhood. I have a 24 hour job and I'm about to get demoted in a couple of months. If anyone's not good enough for anyone, I'm not good enough for you."

"You don't actually believe that, do you?" He took a step closer to her.

"What am I suppose to believe? I thought I knew everything I needed to know, and now it feels like it's all being thrown into a blender and mushed for about an hour."

Mac grabbed her arm and sat her down next to him on the couch.

"When we went to see Claire a few days ago, I was so convinced you weren't ready. And now you tell me you love me?"

"You'd rather I hadn't told you?"

"No, no, Mac, I'm glad you told me. _Very _glad. It's just…_why _did you tell me?"

"I don't know if I could answer that. I wasn't expecting to tell you. It just slipped out. I knew for sure when I got back and you were in my kitchen making sandwiches."

"I've snagged so many men that way," she chuckled.

He chuckled too.

"What now?" Stella asked.


	14. Coney Island

I take it last chapter made up for the chapter before? lol Thank you so much to everyone!

And another Happy Birthday to **Dizzy-Dreamer**!

* * *

He wasn't admitting it, but Stella needing to drive was grating at Mac. He still had old-school values. He would probably even pay for the meal. Not that Stella minded, it was one of the reasons she loved him.

Mac wouldn't tell her where they were going, no matter her best interrogation techniques (he knew them before she even tried them). He just gave a 'left at the light' or 'turn here' and she obeyed, turning the Escalade at his will.

She recognised the general direction: Coney Island.

He directed her to a car park and then guided her by the small of her back into the small restaurant.

"You know, if Massimo ever found out we went to a different Italian restaurant, we'd be the on the _menù del giorno,_" she remarked, nodding to the sign displaying '_Per Sempre_'.

"We'll just have to keep it on a need-to-know basis," he winked.

She couldn't help thinking if it would be common knowledge that they were dating, or maybe dated. Would today go any further? Would there be a second-

The thought quickly vanished when the aromas of garlic, tomatoes and coffee beans tickled at her senses.

The large room screamed Italy. The rustic décor; it had a family atmosphere but was beautifully romantic, while operatic rhythms serenaded the customers over stereo-system.

A young girl directed them to a window seat over-looking the sidewalk and beach. She returned not long later with fresh warm bread, oils and olives.

Stella draped her dark jacket over the back of the chair, revealing a black square-cut dress with thick twisted straps and a dropper necklace she could only wish came in one of those little blue boxes she loved so much.

"You look…" Words?

"Thank you," she smiled, revelling in the compliment. She was allowed to now. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Mac always felt he lived in suits; he wore one day-in-day-out after all. He had refused to wear one for the date as well. His navy blue sweater and open collar shirt underneath seemed like a good option (He hadn't seen Stella stealing glances in the car).

The movement in his arm was no-where near like before, but at least he'd been given the all-clear to stop wearing that infernal sling. Just the cast remained on his wrist, but that wasn't so bad. Just itchy.

"Okay, can I just say before we get down to business-" Stella started, but Mac's raised eyebrows threw her off, so she smirked saying "You know what I mean. I just want to say, I'm not expecting this to the perfect date. We both said we'd take it slow, so lets do that, okay?"

"Who says it wont be perfect? I'll have you know I am an _excellent_ date."

"Is that so Mr. Taylor? Well, then I take back what I said. I expect to be wined and dined like never before."

Xx

Between the main course and dessert, Stella excused herself to the restrooms. She stood before the mirrors, primped her hair and spritzed some more perfume on.

"First date?" A woman asked joining her at the basins.

"You could say that."

"He's a cutey." the blonde winked at Stella's reflection.

"He isn't that bad, huh?"

"You kidding? He's crazy about you too. I'm on the blind-date-from-hell, but you guys are in my eye line when I tune out of whatever what's-his-name is talking about. So I've seen how he looks at you…envious!" She practically squealed the last word.

Stella wasn't quite sure how to take her statement. The whole date didn't feel real. She was actually on a _date _with him. Not out for dinner. A _date. _

And what of this look? Is what this…strange lady saying true? Mac had said he'd, you know, loved her, but that was just a heat-of-the-moment thing, right?

He didn't actually mean it, right?

Right?

Xx

Mac had been internally berating himself the entire time Stella was gone.

_Is she cooking up an excuse to go home?_

_Why would she want to date me?_

_It's not a pity date. She knows how you feel, you know how she feels. Snap out of it._

Although deep down he knew this night, this _date, _was right, he couldn't fight the feeling that he was desecrating Claire's memory. Was he really ready?

He was getting so sick of asking himself that. And yet he was sill doing so.

What would Claire have said to him right now? Probably something like "Oh, suck it up man!" between fits of giggles.

Or "She isn't going to bite, Mac. Unless you want her to, of course."

As if on cue, as if someone had clicked the 'play' button, a scene played out before Mac's mind's eye.

"_Y'know, I love this woman," Claire slurred, wrapping a clumsy arm around Stella, who replied with a surprised "o-okay."_

"_She's fantastic!" Claire squeezed her shoulders._

"_And she's drunk!" Stella smirked, looking from Claire to an amused Mac._

"_I'm not drunk…I'm hammered," she giggled. "But listen, when I'm six-foot-under and dead-"_

"_-Claire!-"_

"_Hopefully the other way 'round first," another giggle, "I want this woman to be the next Mrs. Taylor."_

"_I think someone needs to go home now," Mac smiled, as much as he loved his wife, and as much as she could drink the guys under the table, when drunk, her mouth had a mind of his own. _

_Stella carefully passed wife to husband._

"_I'm counting on you, Stella," Claire called over her shoulder._

"_I'll remind him, don't worry," she smirked, chuckling at the inebriated absurdity of the statement._

"You really are killing me, Mac," Stella's voice broke him from his reverie.

"I am?"

She sat back down and gestured to the plate in front of her. "Tiramisu? You think I can fit into this dress by eating Tiramisu?"

"If you don't want it-" he reached over.

"You touch this and I break the other wrist."

Xx

After the quarrel over the check, they took a moonlit walk down the sidewalk, watching the shimmers of the waves in the distance.

Stella was bundled back up in her leather jacket, fighting the night chill. She wrapped an arm around Mac's, non-apologetically stealing some of his body's warmth. He entwined his fingers through hers and held her close.

They slowed down and leant against the railings, hands still entwined, eyes still cast to the beach.

Their glances connected.

His green eyes danced over her features, noticing she'd never looked more beautiful than in the moment before he finally kissed her.

Stella's own green eyes bore into his, realising a split second before it happened what he was planning to do.

Mac leant in, closing the already small expanse between them.

Stella's eyes fluttered closed as her lips touched his.

It was a sweet kiss. Tender, soft, perfect for a first.

After a moment, they twisted their bodies to face each other, lips still connected. Conjoined hands down by their sides, Mac's other wishing it could touch her hip, her face, her hair.

He finally remembered that he could, he was no longer bound by a sling. He didn't know where to go first. Hip? Bring her closer?

No, he needed to touch her. Properly touch her, feel her skin under his fingers.

A grimace shot through him as he moved his hand to her cheek. Apparently his shoulder didn't share his fingers' need.

Stella pulled back, worried. The lazy circles Mac's fingers played across her cheek settled her fears. She was hoping that her smile wasn't as freakishly large as it was in her mind.

She touched Mac's cheek and gave him another peck before leading him to a bench and folding into his side.

She fit into the crook of his arm, her body sitting diagonally across the seat, his (good) arm over her shoulder playing with her fingers.

Stella couldn't help the content sigh that escaped her.

He chose this moment to fish her ring out of his pocket with his throbbing arm, switch it to his other hand and slide it over a finger.

"I know you think I had no one to come back for, but you're wrong," he whispered.

"Really?"

"Yeah…Mrs. Grubman next door needs me to feed her cat while she's away."

She chuckled, giving him a dig in the side.

"Can I ask you a question?" he enquired, when everything had settled back into a comfortable silence.

"Of course."

"Were you actually going to date Stankevich?"

"Even if I did, it wouldn't have been serious."

"Because he's going back to Ohio?"

"Because I would have been Stella Stankevich! That doesn't sound good."

He snorted a "No."


	15. Anniversary To Remember

Thank you to everyone! It still amazes me to no end the reception this is getting! I hope this lives up.

A/N: For the basis of this fic, inter-office relations are only 'frowned upon' (Think Ross and Elizabeth in _Friends _;)).

* * *

Natalie Roberts meandered her way through the lab maze, her destination unplanned. She was nursing her third cup of coffee in an hour and waiting not-so-patiently for the techs to come through with her results. She needed them before she could even think of going home.

She took a detour when she spotted the light to Stella's office still on. She could see through the glass walls that she was standing over the desk packing files into her bag, and grinning to herself at random intervals.

"Big date?" Nat smirked, pushing the heavy doors open while balancing her cup.

"Just dinner with Mac," Stella smiled, looking up from her job.

"So, a big date then." Natalie smirked even more, taking a seat and crossing her legs. Stella was thinking of a non-committal retort, when she was told, "We know. We figured it out."

"We?" She moved her bag from the chair and onto the floor, sitting in its place.

"Me, Danny, Connor, Hawkes, Flack…don't know about the Techies." She took a sip of her coffee.

"Sorry for not telling you guys, we just, y'know-"

"-Hey, it's not our business. It's yours to tell." She shrugged. "So is it a big date? Anniversary, something like that?"

"Sort of. It's three-months since Mac was shipped out, he'd have been coming home this week. We're going to celebrate." Stella said, pressing the monitor off on her computer and dragging together the last few files.

"I won't keep you then," Nat grinned, following Stella's gaze out of the door to a waiting Mac.

Stella squeezed her arm with a smile as she passed her, "See you tomorrow."

"Be good. Or if you can't be good, be _naughty_," she smirked, wiggling her eyebrows to a chuckling Stella.

"What did she say?" Mac asked her when she joined him in the hall.

"She said I should basically jump you right here."

"She's a bad influence on you."

Stella grinned at the slightly alarmed look in Mac's eyes. "You ready?"

He nodded and fell in step as they walked to the exit. "Fancy Massimo's?"

Stella didn't get a chance to answer, when a "Taylor. Bonasera. My office, please." broke their banter.

Chief Highbourne spun on his expensive heals and stalked back to his upper-floor office.

"What crawled up his butt and nested?" She whispered, dropping her heavy bag in the break room next to them.

"He probably needs us to pick either Connor or Natalie for a permanent position," Mac said when she rejoined him. They walked to the elevators and pressed for the carriage, Highbourne already escaping in the previous one.

"Is there no chance of keeping them both?"

"I don't know, you know the budget better than me at the moment, can we afford two?" The doors slid open, Mac pressed for Highbourne's floor.

"Afford? Probably not. Need? Yes."

"We might be able to wrangle him into keeping them both for now, but once I'm back, we might need to let one go." The doors closed, the carriage ascending.

"Even so, what was with the abrupt 'Taylor. Bonasera.' deal?"

"I don't even pretend to care anymore." Mac said, a smirk playing at his lips that quickly disappeared when a _ding _sounded and the doors slid open.

Mac and Stella made for the open door to Highbourne's office, seeing him sat behind his desk in his maroon-leather throne.

"What can we do you for, Frank?" Mac asked, closing the door after Stella, and sitting opposite the stony-faced Chief.

"It's good to see you, Mac, but this is 'Chief' business." His features bore no friendly qualities; this had to be more than just a hire-fire meeting.

"Well, then can we get on with this please, I have plans."

"As do I," Stella piped up, crossing her legs and sitting back in the chair.

"I have reason to believe that these 'plans' you both so eagerly want to escape too, are of a romantic nature," Highbourne said, leaning his elbows on to the arms of his chair and clasping his hands.

"Excuse me?" Mac asked, staring straight at him. The bravado routine may work on the younger CSI's, but not on Mac. Or Stella for that matter.

"Is it true that you and Detective Bonasera are dating each other?"

"Detective Bonasera _is _in the room, Chief," Stella barked.

"Then would you care to answer the question?"

"I fail to see whether it being true or not is any of your business."

"It is most definitely my business when the outcome could affect these labs, Bonasera," Highbourne snapped, the defensive nature of both of them coming to a head yet again.

"Our every action has these labs in mind, so you know that whether it is true that we are dating or not, would not have been a decision taken lightly, _Chief._"

"So you admit that you are romantically involved?"

Mac was starting to get anxious. Not because of the questions or the Chief, he could handle them with ease, but the fireball next to him was getting ready to blow, and that wasn't recommended.

"Again, I don't see how that is any of your business! Not only is it outside of office hours, but one member of the relationship doesn't even currently work for you!"

"'Relationship'. So it is true."

Now was a good time to get Stella out of there. Mac stood up, Stella doing the same, thinking they were going to storm out or something of that nature.

"Yes, it's true!"

He held on to her arm, pulling her towards the door. "Stella, Stella! Go home, I'll take care of this." She was still bouncing. "Go home, I'll come by later."

She gave a frustrated sigh, knowing herself it would be better that she left. She kissed Mac, just because she could, resisted the temptation to flip the spectator the bird and left.

Mac physically relaxed, a relieved sigh escaping him. He turned around and sat back down. "What is this really about, Chief?"

"I can't have you two together and working together. It's against protocol," Highbourne said, silently thankful for Stella's quick exit.

"Screw protocol," Mac uttered calmly.

"Detective Taylor-"

"Nowhere in the contracts does it stipulate that Stella and I being together is forbidden. We are not breaking any laws. And we certainly not going to part-ways because you don't approve.

"Even if it _was_ prohibited, it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference. You know me well enough, and have done long enough, to know that I would never do anything to jeopardise this lab. Neither would Stella, but you have an innate dislike towards her.

"What would you have done anyway? Forced one of us to leave? Can you possibly compute the consequences to this team? Have they not been through enough? First Bobby passing on and us being the ones to find and process what was left of him at Ground Zero; Aiden's arrival and subsequent departure before she was anywhere near her full potential; My being shipped out, to be replaced by Jimmy Palmer and his girlfriend, whom you knew full well was worthless since the Senator Muldoon case.

"Now we have Natalie and Connor, who are true assets to this team. And you really want to harm that dynamic by letting one of us leave? Stella is the glue that holds this team, this _family, _together. You actually think that Danny would stay if she, or I, left? Not to mention Sheldon, Flack, and I believe, Natalie or Connor.

"This is why I firmly believe that myself and Stella will remain in our positions in this lab, and outside, and you will treat us with the same amount of respect that we will regard yourself and this lab.

"So, with that, Frank, I will leave you to your work and I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

With that, Mac rose and left.


	16. Poker Face

So, my usually extensive notes for each chapter in my books were in bulletpoint form for this chapter facepalm That's why it took so long to post this one. This is still what I wanted to happen, so I hope y'all like it :)

A/N: "Skato" is Greek for 'Little Sh!t' ;) Thanks to DPMB (and Melina) for pointing that one out for me heehee xx

* * *

Mac pushed the button for Stella's apartment, identifying himself when her voice came from the box on the wall. The door unlocked with a buzz, while Stella said "S'open." 

Of all the things that Stella Bonasera was, predictable wasn't one of them. She was incredibly smart and breathtakingly beautiful, but there was absolutely no knowing what her next move was going to be. This was playing through Mac's mind as he neared her door.

Was she going to be calmly getting ready for their date, scouring the house for that earring she lost last week?

Or was she pacing the rooms muttering multi-lingual obscenities aimed at the chief and/or the system?

A step nearer to her door and the question was answered, when a smash sounded, followed by a "Skato!" in Stella's alto.

"Everything okay?" he called into the apartment, pushing the ajar door open and letting himself in.

"Oh, everything is fantastic, Mac! Best damn day of my life." She snarked from the kitchen, shovelling a broken glass into the trash. As hard as he tried to hide it, Mac couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the sight before him. She was still wearing the grey work pants from that afternoon, but it was now accompanied with a scoop-necked chocolate brown top, her hair primped and perfect and on top of her head. But her square jaw was set even more so than usual, and her eyes screamed homicide, or something to that effect.

"But, you know what, I've had 2 hours to stew on today's events, so you're best just telling me what happened after I left, because you've never seem me in the mood I'm feeling." She slammed the bin lid down and returned the dustpan to the cupboard under the sink.

"I've seen Rambo Stella before." Mac said, playing devil's advocate while watching her spin around to face him again.

"This is beyond 'Rambo Stella'. Rambo is a distant pleasant memory to this emotion. This emotion is imagining excuses of how 2 gallons of sulphuric acid just happened to spill on to Highbourne's precious beamer.

"This emotion is explaining away how two-month-old fish were found in the hubcaps to the same precious beamer.

"This emotion is letting four-year-olds run wild with metal scourers and lipstick in Highbourne's parking space." She was spitting out the words now, her mind deliriously enjoying the scenarios.

"Okay, I'm going to stop this emotion before it learns how to assemble a Semi-automatic from scratch in 6 seconds flat." He held her by the shoulders again and led her to a chair at the table.

"Give me a couple of minutes practice and I'll have that down too." Her promising eyes locked onto Mac's. How was he so calm? Why wasn't he as livid as she was? "He can't make me choose between my career and my relationship, can he? Am I fired?"

"Why would he fire you? It'd be easier to fire me, just not let me come back to work."

"Oh please, the golden child? The war hero? The famous Mac Taylor?" she asked, with a 'phft" sound.

"I'm anything but a hero, or famous for that matter. And Highbourne definitely doesn't think of me as the 'golden child' after what happened." Mac scratched behind his ear, feeling just the slightest bit embarrassed with how he reacted to his employer.

"Well, you have no fight-bite, so it couldn't have been that bad."

"Let's just say, the facts were laid out and truths were told…and you're back to work tomorrow."

"I am?" There had to be more to it. Stella stood up and paced a bit more. "Even though me and you are desecrating CSI protocols and, by his behaviour, you'd think all things holy?"

"Screw protocol," he shrugged.

"Mr Taylor! I've never heard such words!" She spun to him, a little shocked to hear Mac say something like 'screw' in that context. "Say them again," she winked.

"I would, but we're going to be late for dinner," he smirked, standing up and tucking his chair under the table.

"Screw dinner."

"Miss Bonasera! I've ne-" His mocking but flirtatious words were cut short by her mouth on his. It grew increasingly deeper, Stella wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers grasping at his hair.

Stella was more than willing to leave it at that level of intimacy for a while longer. The feeling of Mac's mouth moving with hers was still a novel pleasure that she couldn't get enough of. She felt his forearms brush at her sides, slowly but intentionally moving their way up her back, his hands playing across the fabric of her shirt.

Before she knew it, the clip holding her hair up rattled across the floor, her curls unleashed and flowing at her ears. Mac's finger's riffled through them, caressing at her scalp, following the length of the strands down her neck. His touch was burning at her skin, scratching at her flesh, and she couldn't believe it.

She didn't miss a beat, bringing her palms across his shoulders and down his sweater. She only had three places of skin at her disposal: face, neck and hands. By kissing his neck, she would destroy the searing dance his lips were playing on hers, and his hands were on a journey of discovery across her neck and back that she didn't want to distract them from.

When her fingers reached the hem of his sweater, she pulled it up, yanking his shirt from his trousers next. She waited for any sign of hesitation, that he wasn't ready for this step, but she felt nothing. Well, no, she felt everything. Every finger touching every muscle; every movement from his mouth and, oh my, tongue; every step backwards they made until reaching her bedroom.

Mac shut the door behind him, one hand firmly entwined through curls. Her hands snaked up under his shirt, playing at the fluff on his stomach and chest. She felt, with baited breath, as he swooped her shirt up and over her head, ripping her hands from their contact.

They fell on to her bed not long after.

Xx

Stella wasn't there when Mac woke. He turned in the bed, half covered by the duvet, to see the digital alarm clock blinking 8.00pm on her side. He stretched his arms, relieving the aching tension in his legs and lower back. It had been a while.

He sat up and flung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his boxer shorts and trousers on the floor.

Stella spun at the sound of the bedroom door opening, grinning at the sight before her. She lowered the phone from her ear, asking "You want spicy sausage on your pizza?"

Mac nodded and walked closer to her, loving the sight of her in his dress shirt and a pair of boxer briefs and nothing else. She finished the call with a "Thanks Massimo," and dropped the phone to the table as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You okay?" he asked.

"Mmhmm," she nodded, unable to keep the grin at bay. "Are _you_ okay?" she asked, hoping he caught the double meaning: Okay physically and okay with what happened.

"Yes to both." he smiled, kissing her again.


	17. Back To The Grind

Thank you to everyone, once again! Cant love you guys enough xx

Happy Birthday to Melina for yesterday! Wouldnt be a story without her ;) xx

Also, thanks for DPMB (again!) for the _Providence _quote that I blatantly stole ;)

* * *

Mac took hold of the door and pulled it towards him with a deep breath. As he stepped inside the police department, a chorus rang out: 

"He-ey, Taylor!"

"Good to have you back, man."

"The wanderer returns, eh?"

He smiled to the crowd of officers (and scowling criminals) before telling them all to get back to work.

"Oh yeah, he's back," someone said with a chuckle.

"Mac, good to have you back in the building," Flack said, catching up to him and patting his back as they walked.

"Thanks Flack, it's good to be back." They walked through the second doors to the CSI department of the building.

Don spied Stella coming towards them, "Yeah, anything to get Stella from the hot seat. Can you say 'Power Mad'?"

"Well, I know for sure you can ask 'How high?'" Stella smirked, joining the two men in the hallway.

"Don't flirt with me, Stella," a twinkle in his baby blues contradicting his professional demeanour.

"Well, stop being so cute then!" she grabbed at Flack's cheeks. He batted her hands away and went back to his desk, with another pat to Mac's back.

"Should I be worried?" Mac asked with an eyebrow to his hairline and a smirk threatening his features.

"It takes more than a pretty face to rock my world," Stella said with a straight face, but with a flirtatious sparkle to her Emerald green eyes. "Want me to help you unpack?" she gestured to the briefcase he carried and gave a head nod to his waiting office.

"I can do it."

"Sure? Okay, well, meet me here for lunch?"

"I think I'm just going to work through it, catch up on what I've missed."

"Don't go overdoing it on your first day back, Mac. Come to lunch. My treat."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry so much." He meant well, but the edge that had presented in his voice, albeit against his will, hurt her.

"Okay, I'll hand out the assignments then," she turned to the office.

"I'll do it," he almost snapped. "Tell everyone to meet me up there in five minutes. I'm back now, Stella. You don't need to sugar coat anything."

She blinked, her jaw setting. "I'll get the others," with that she walked to the break room, leaving Mac in her dust.

What was his problem? She was only trying to soften the blow of being back to work after a long absence. It wasn't as if she was making-out with him there and then.

Stella knew that work and play had to have a hard, bold line. She knew and accepted that, but he wasn't even like he was before he got shipped out. This was nearly, what, 7 years of repression in their relationship. She hoped it was just first day nerves.

Xx

"Hey, you okay?" Natalie asked, entering the break room. Stella was sat at the table with a sandwich and coke, and the starting of a scowl.

"Fine. Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," she pressed for Peanut Butter Cups from the vending machine and sat opposite Stella. "Maybe just that you've had a black cloud above you all day. I thought you'd have been sickeningly cheerful today-of-all-days."

"Me too." She pursed her lips with a quirk of her eyebrows before taking a swig of the coke. "We had a bit of a run-in this morning, and, because that's what I do, I've been stewing on it ever since."

"Run-in about…?"

"Apparently I'm 'sugar-coating' his return. I thought it was just going to go back to before, but it isn't even that."

"It's just first-day-jitters," Nat dismissed her with a wave. "Give him a day to settle back in, and stop all the all tech's talking, and it'll be like before. Probably better."

"The tech's are talking? What are the tech's talking about exactly?"

"I think they're beginning to cotton-on about you two. They may be incredibly bright, but they are so _slow _at times." She saw the alarmed look in Stella eyes, "It'll calm down soon, don't worry."

"Don't worry? If Highbourne thinks that our being together threatens us working with each other, never mind others working, one of us will be out faster than Chad can name the back-catalogue of Greenday."

"Want me to have a word?"

"Nah, it's alright. I'll go talk to Devlin in Trace, it'll get around faster that way."

Nat chuckled, "Good point. Are you and Mac going to come to Sullivan's tonight?"

"I think we're just going to go for a meal or something. I'm getting sick of take-out."

"Really?" she wriggled her eyebrows.

"Get your mind outta the gutter!"

"You took it there!" she smirked, feigning innocence and going for more Peanut Butter Cups.

Xx

"Ready to go?" Stella asked, poking her head through the door to Mac's office. He nodded as she let herself fully into the glass-walled space. "I thought we might go to Massimo's for a celebratory-back-to-work meal."

"Not tonight," he said, packing his briefcase up again.

"I thought we could go out instead; have a change from take-out."

"I'm just going to go and catch-up on this paperwork. I'll see you tomorrow," he swung his jacket from the back of the chair and slipped it on.

She sighed a bit, barely having seen him all day. "If you're sure."


	18. Passion

Apologies for not uploading this yesterday! I was out for the day celebrating one of my best friend's birthdays, and then it wouldn't upload it for me all night, or all today! Grr.

So sorry that this is late, thank you so much for r'n'ring 17, hope you like 18 :D

* * *

It was eight-pm on the Friday when Stella had finally had enough. She jumped on the subway, getting off at Mac's stop, and practically quick-marched over to his house. Scenario's and experimental conversations battling in her mind.

She calmed herself down before knocking on his door. If she went in all-guns-blazing nothing would get sorted.

"Hi." She said when Mac appeared.

"Hi." He smiled gently and moved back to the kitchen, Stella following.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just reading the paper." He sat down at the table, the morning's newspaper open before him.

Stella crossed the table and sat down opposite him. She folded her arms and sighed softly. "What's going on?"

He misread the question and spoke about the headline. "Teachers are going on strike again. Not enough-"

"No, Mac, with you. What's going on with _you_?"

"I'm fine."

"You're fine," her tone dripped with disbelief. "So it's just a coincidence that we've barely talked, _outside of work, _for nearly a week, then. It's just a mishap that you've been too busy to go to dinner and it's just unfortunate that you haven't kissed me since Sunday." She sighed, annoyed at herself for losing her temper. In her rant, she had paced the kitchen, finally stopping near the large refrigerator. "I hate sounding like the jealous girlfriend, Mac, it's just…"

"'It's just' what?" He had swerved in his chair to watch her.

"At first, I though it was because you were starting back to work. You haven't been there for a long time, so it was bound to be an adjustment. But it's not that. It's like…it's like you've lost your passion."

"I've lost my passion," he reiterated, definitely needing her to clarify.

"No, no, not lost it; just shifted it," Stella said, her mind changing as she spoke. The hour-or-so of scenarios from the ride over hadn't helped, apparently. "It's as if you can only focus on one thing at a time. Before you came back to work, you focused on us," Mac rose from his seat as she spoke, standing in front of her. "We'd go out; we'd stay in; we'd actually talk. Now that you're working again, _that's _where your focus is, your passion."

"I've lost my passion?" He asked again. His voice only slightly registering it as a question.

"Not lost, just…shifted." She watched his eyes, half expecting to see hurt looking back at her. But as she watched, she saw them grow darker. Emerald green staring back at her, pre-empting a move she never expected.

Mac lunged forwards, attacking her mouth with his own. He held her wrists against the cool of the fridge, the temperature the polar opposite to her body's.

He continued to savage her lips, unrelenting and unrepentant.

Stella found herself whimper slightly, against her volition, when Mac pulled away. He released his hold and took a step back.

"I'm sorry," he muttered through swollen lips.

"I'm not," she practically snarled, pulling at his tee-shirt until she was backed against the fridge again, his lips on hers.

Xx

"I'm sorry," Mac sighed, his fingers stroking Stella's shoulder. His head was propped up against the pillows on the headboard, Stella draped across his body.

She propped her hand against his bare chest, resting her chin on it to look him in the eyes. "For last night? Don't be," she smirked.

Mac chuckled, "I meant for this past week. You were right, I had been pulling away. It's been a long time since I've had two worlds: A work one _and _a home one. I guess I forgot how to juggle them."

"It's okay. I forgive you," she pursed her lips into a flirtatious giggle. "But I'll have to teach you to juggle tonight," the bedside clock caught her eye, "because I have to get home and get showered and changed before work."

She moved to get up, wrapping the sheet around her, in search of her clothes. She wandered back ten minutes later, fully clothed and carrying with her the scent of percolating coffee.

Mac was sat on the bed, a pair of jogging pants and a tee-shirt on. "Here," he said, passing her a flattened out duffel bag.

"What's this?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

"Fill it and bring it back with you tonight. That way you don't have to run off in a morning," he was almost blushing.

Stella softened, "Are you sure?" She didn't want him to do anything he wasn't ready for.

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't."

"Thank you," she grinned, leaning in for a kiss. "I've got to go. I'll see you at the office."


	19. Mandatory Attendance

I know I usually update on a Monday, but it's going to be difficult tomorrow, so here you go!

Thanks to everyone for R&Ring last chapter! Can you believe we're onto _ch19_?

* * *

Connor was bent over a microscope when his beeper sounded. Danny and Natalie were changing into coveralls for a car search when there's collectively trilled. Mac and Stella were awaiting Trace and DNA results respectively when they were digitally summoned.

They all met up in the break room.

"You called?" Danny snarked as he entered, seeing Chief Highbourne waiting with his trademark scowl.

"Yes, thank you all for getting here so fast," he chose to ignore the incredulous looks saying 'as if we had a choice'. "I wanted to extend these invitations to you. The Mayor is holding a ball to commemorate the new state-of-the-art Epithelial Analysis station, the EpiTech. Presence is mandatory."

"I'm out of town that day," Danny announced. Connor sniggered at his side.

"I haven't told you the date yet, Messer."

"I've been working on my psychic abilities, Chief. Off the clock, of course."

As much as he was enjoying hearing the backchat, Mac felt a warning was in order, "Danny…"

"Sorry, boss."

"As I was saying," the Chief continued, "attendance is mandatory. All are plus-one. Dress is black tie."

A collective groan sounded. If there was anything worse than being the resident geeks at a Mayoral party, it was that they had to wear tuxedos and dresses. They didn't have time to play dress up!

"I'll look forward to seeing you all on Friday night, then," he flashed them a sardonic grin. "As you were…" he gestured back to the halls, but walked them himself instead.

"Mac, tell me you can pull some strings and get us out of this," Danny practically pleaded.

"Sorry, no can do. There's no back I can scratch to get us out of a Mayoral invitation."

Natalie had been silent, reading over the gold embossed card. "C'mon guys, as much as I hate to inflict this kind of pain on my significant other, we might as well make a night of it and get everyone out. Danny, you can bring Aiden; Connor, you can bring your latest conquest…"

"I take offence!" Connor said, clutching as his chest as if hurt.

"No, you don't," she chuckled. Connor shrugged, agreeing with her.

"Marly does look good all dressed-up-to-the-nines…" he said, pulling out his cell phone and scrolling to her number.

"There we go, that's the spirit. Danny, get Aiden on the phone and tell her to get herself a dress on you," Natalie commanded, determination in her eyes. "Mac, I trust you'll be bringing Stella?"

Mac couldn't help but be amused as both the other men were chattering away to their partners, all at the command of the 5-foot-7 woman next to him. "Naturally."

"Good, in that case…" she pulled one of Mac's lapels open and fished his wallet of the inside pocket, handing it over to Stella. She looked triumphantly around the room, before rubbing her hands together. "My work here is done. Danny, meet me at the garage in five."

Xx

Natalie and her husband Steven were the first to arrive to the ball. Her dark-blue Empire cut dress shimmered in the overhead lighting, giving her more of a glow than usual.

Steven seated her at a free table and scooted off to the bar, his dress shoes slipping across the over-shined dance floor.

Natalie was shaking her head to the quiet background music, silently wondering who the hell had given the 'DJ' the back catalogue to The Village People.

She looked to the doors again, hoping to see a familiar face, and someone to convince her that the night would get better. Thankfully, she saw Stella walking towards her clutching at her bag.

"Where's Mac?" She asked her, standing to hug her

"He's meeting me here. You look great," Stella grinned, looking at her colleague.

"Me? Look at you Miss Bonasera!" Nat smirked, holding Stella at arms length to take in her Emerald green dress, the perfect shade for her colouring. It was relatively tight-fitting, with a neck that boasted cleavage, but left enough for the imagination to have fun with. "How long did it take Mac to fall in love with you?"

Stella chuckled, "Well, he hadn't seen me in this dress, so it doesn't count."

"That's true," Nat giggled, nodding her head and taking her seat.

"No Danny or Connor?"

"Nope, just me and Steven," she replied as Steven himself came back to the table with a beer and orange juice. He doubled back on himself to get Stella a Sapphire Martini.

He just got back to the table with Stella's clear blue drink, when Danny, Aiden, Connor and Marly arrived. Danny announced that they'd shared a cab, while his arm was protectively around Aiden's waist. Her chocolate brown dress moulding to her figure, which Danny was simultaneously drooling over and making sure nobody else was doing the same.

Connor introduced Marly to the table. She smiled at the others, but made it clear she was only there for her man, and Connor was most definitely her man. Her stomach-length jet-black hair fell over her similarly black dress, the delicate gold butterflies up one side contradicting the look in her eyes. It was low and long, with a thigh-length slit showing dancers legs.

She took a seat next to Connor, while Danny and Aiden went to the bar, casting a wide-eyed glance to Stella directed at Marly. The cab ride over must have been hair-raising.

Stella was telling the table how she'd been teasing Mac all week, telling him how this was their first public outing as a couple, and how all eyes were going to be on them. "I told him that we had to be on our best behaviour," she said, with an almost-straight face.

"That's probably why he's late then! Scared him off," Nat smirked.

"Please, I've said worse."

Mac chose that moment to enter the party hall. The sight of him in his tuxedo made Stella's breath catch in her throat as he came for her. "Sorry I'm late."

"You're here now," Stella smiled, standing up and kissing him.

"Can I have a word?" he asked, pulling her to one side.

"Sure," she was saying, trotting along side him. When they got to a quiet spot near the door, she asked, "What's up?"

"I have to go."

"What? You just got here."

"I know. I'm sorry," Mac said, apologetically. "You look amazing, but I can't stay."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I can't really explain, I've just gotta go. I'll call you later," he kissed her again, whispering another "You really do look amazing," and hurried out of the door.

Stella was rooted to the place for a beat, watching his retreating figure. She spun on her heel and stalked back to the table, grabbing her bag.

"Stel? What's going on? Where'd Mac go?" Connor asked, practically pushing Marly from his ear.

"I don't know. But I intend to find out."


	20. The Myerson's

Chapter 20 - _wow. _I can't thank you guys enough, you have no idea how happy those reviews make me! All y'all are hilarious with them! So, yes, cookies all round :)

I have the next3 written out, well, planned, which will take me up to my vacation, from which will be a 2 weeks hiatus and hopefully some more chapters :D

Hope y'all enjoy! Becs x

* * *

Stella trotted into the hall's dimly lit parking lot, her hand lost in her bag in search of the car keys. When her fingers finally clasped around the fob, she finally pulled them out, but her urgency causing clumsiness when they fell to the floor with clatter. As she bent to pick them up, movement near the exit caught her eye: Mac's dark escalade drove down the ramp and onto the street below. The speed of which he did was questionable to Stella. He casually turned the car onto the street; there was no urgency to his actions. If where he was going was so important to miss the Mayoral ball, there first outing as a couple, why wasn't he peeling out of the building, tires screeching, to hell with safety?

A nagging question began to form in the back of Stella's mind. Had she actually scared him off, saying that they would be the centre of attention, all eyes on them?

She shook her head, dismissing the insane notion, and quickly unlocked the car and started the engine, hoping he wasn't too far ahead already.

As she turned onto the street, she could see Mac's car in the distance, the height of her own work-provided Escalade proving helpful.

She turned left when he did; then a right a couple of seconds after him.

When he eventually came to a stop, parking outside of a restaurant, she drove straight past. She decided that if she circled the block, by the time she found a space for herself, Mac would have had enough time to be involved in whatever it was he was doing.

She watched him through the rear-view mirror as she locked up his car and entered the restaurant. The typical girlfriend insecurities bubbled under the surface: Was he seeing somebody else? As much as she knew that that could never be the case, she still questioned it. Just like the possibility that she'd scared him with her playful jokes was running through her mind with added neon flashing lights and Vanna White pointing at it and grinning. Why Vanna White, she didn't know.

She parked up and grabbed the overcoat from the backseat, wrapping it around her as she slowly approached the restaurant.

Staying as near the wall as possible, without looking like she was on a stake-out, (although, wasn't she really?) she peered into the large window looking into the establishment.

There were red not-quite-leather booths along the far-side wall, and a long wooden bar opposite it. A few tables were dotted around a middle clearing, a couple of them with customers. It reminded of bars she'd seen in old movies; half expecting to see Scott Baio appear from behind book case with a cream pie gun.

She couldn't see who was in all of the booths, but she didn't recognise Mac from what she saw.

Moving towards the inset door, she looked out to the street 'inconspicuously'. She opened the first door and went to grab the second door's handle when someone spoke behind her, giving her a fright. "You took your time."

"My God, Mac!" Stella breathed as he stepped out from the shadows, "Are you _intentionally_ trying to kill me?"

"That depends on whether you're _intentionally_ following me," he smirked. That was a good sign.

"I was worried…you taking off like that…What are you doing here anyway?"

He didn't answer her, just lay a hand to the small of her back, led her into the restaurant and over to one of the booths. "Martha, Bill, you remember Stella," Mac said, gesturing to the older couple.

"Of course, it's good to see you again," Martha smiled.

"You too…" Was she blushing? Had she actually shrunk to the two foot that she felt?

Martha and Bill Myserson, parents of Claire Susannah Myserson/Taylor, watched her search in vain for words, any words. Mac smirked at her side, enjoying the humiliation.

"We're only in town for today, and Mac wanted to see us. We're sorry for pulling him out of the party," Bill smiled. He was a nice man, always friendly and genuine. His hair was salt more than pepper now, although that had happened practically over night after 9/11. Stella had met them a once or twice over the years, most notably at Claire's wake.

"Oh, not a problem. He'd probably thank you for it," Stella smiled. "It was nice to see you again, I'll leave you all alone-"

"Oh no, Child! Please, join us. We're only catching up over drinks," Martha practically shouted. She'd always struck Stella as being an Alpha-Mom, the kind that made the best cookies and threw the best 5th birthday parties. She was always jealous of Claire in that respect.

She was about to kindly refuse when Mac assured her that Martha could be very persistent when she wanted to be, and if she wanted to leave alive, she'd better take a seat. So Stella relented, sliding into the booth next to Martha while Mac went to the bar to get another round.

Stella was taking off her overcoat when, "Listen," Bill said squaring his hefty build, "Before this gets awkward, we want you to know that we know about Mac and yourself, and we're very happy for you," Martha looked from her husband to Stella, nodding her head as she went. "Mac was always good to Claire, and he deserves to be happy."

When the shock subsided and she regained the use of her body, she folded the coat, putting it next to her on the seat. "I don't know what to say…I appreciate it very much. I know getting your...blessing, of sorts, would mean a lot to Mac. Claire is still very much a part of his life, and I don't intend to change that," She smiled, "Well, not much."

Martha chuckled, putting a hand over Stella's. "Mac was hit hard by what happened. We all were. But it's time, and he knows that." She leant in, her greying shoulder length hair falling forwards, "And between us girls, he sounds happier than he has in a long time."

"Drinks," Mac announced, placing the tray on the table. Bill took his beer and handed his wife her Gin and Tonic. Stella took her Martini as Mac sat next to her, thankful for the interruption. What should she say? Thank them? Apologise for taking Claire's space?

"Son," Bill started in a firm tone, "We were just telling Stella that Martha and I are happy for you two. And we know Claire is too."

"Well, thank you, sir-"

"After 17 years in the family and he still calls me 'Sir'-"

"Boys, boys, why don't we just order some food and change the subject?" Martha chuckled. She turned to Stella, "If you think this is bad, don't start them on politics or sports. They'll bicker like school girls."

Xx

The two couples enjoyed a meal together, some laughs and some memories. Stella wasn't made to feel like a third wheel, which she appreciated, and joined in with some anecdotes about Claire.

Bill and Martha had always liked Stella, what they saw of her at least. She was a good friend to Claire and even better to Mac after her untimely demise. They had been worrying about Mac; he hadn't taken the death well (How can you take it _well_ really?) but knowing Stella was there had settled them somewhat. The evolution of their relationship was to be expected really.

When 10pm came around, the older couple announced that they would have to go, as they had an early train back to Albany the next day. They hugged, said their goodbyes, and told each other to stay in touch.

10pm was apparently a big time for the restaurant. The bar tender was joined by another, while a man appeared at the far end of the room and flicked a switch to the turntables in front of him. Eric Clapton's _'Wonderful Tonight'_ soulfully began over the stereo-system, some couples from the surrounding tables going to the dance floor.

Mac led Stella to the floor, not even retaking their seats after seeing the Myserson's off.

He held her at the small of her back, her hands clasped behind his neck, as they swayed to the music.

"I'm sorry about coming here tonight," she told him, "I didn't know what was happening. You ran off so fast."

"I don't blame you. I'm kind of glad you did come, Bill and Martha had been asking about you, especially after I told them about us."

"When _did _you tell them?"

"When they announced they were coming into town. I didn't want to have to lie to them. I got the feeling they weren't that surprised actually."

"Yeah, I got that impression. But, listen, you don't have to hide things from me. Anything to do with Claire isn't going to throw me, you know, you can tell me."

She stroked her fingers through the hair at his neck.

He nodded. "I do know that, it just feels different now. I mean, you're no longer a friend of mine and Claire's; you're my girlfriend. That's a whole new dimension that can get confusing to be in."

"I understand that, but you have to talk to me. Tell me when it's confusing and we can sort it out. No more running off or pulling away?"

Mac chuckled, "I haven't really been that good of a boyfriend, have I?"

"You've had your moments," she pursed her lips in a smirk. "You just need to talk to me, okay?"

"Okay," he promised, with a kiss. "Did I mention how amazing you look?"

"Once or twice, but it never gets old."

"Do you think we have time to get back to the party?"

Stella checked her watch over Mac's shoulder, "I think so. Although what state the others will be in is up in the air." He gave her a questioning look. "Well, everyone was drinking save Natalie; Danny was keeping an _extra _close eye on Aiden on account of her outfit; and Connor's girl-du-jour saw everyone as competition, I think."

"Ah…"

"Yeah…you ready?" she wiggled her eyebrows with a smirk.


	21. Light and Dark

Thanks to everyone again! And thanks to Eri for the speedy beta ;) :D

* * *

Natalie sauntered into the break room, feeling apprehensive, delighted and nauseous all at once. The ride to work had been filled with one-sided conversations and possible scenarios. She wasn't really looking forward to her talk with Mac, that was if she could actually _find_ Mac.

She saw Stella and Danny by the counter, their backs turned to her, bickering over the coffee pot yet again.

"I made it yesterday," he told her.

"That's what you call coffee?"

"That was damn good coffee! Bronx coffee! Doesn't get much better than that."

"_Instant_ is better than yesterday's sludge," she smirked spooning beans into the filter.

"Hey, you guys? Do you know where Mac is? He's not in his office," Natalie asked, looking slightly green in the break room's light. Her hair was tousled as well.

"He's not in today," Danny said, adding an extra spoon of coffee when Stella had turned to Nat.

She saw him in the corner of her eyes, though, and swatted him before taking the extra back out. "Everything all right?"

"Everything's fantastic. And also not. Can I talk to you for a second?" she asked, gesturing to the hall.

"Sure," Stella smiled, snapping the percolator lid shut and putting the coffee jar back in the cupboard before Danny could touch it. He scowled at her as they left, then got the jar back out and added some more. As the door to Mac's office whooshed shut, she asked, "So, what's up?"

Natalie sat down on the chair next to her and put her head in her hands. "Okay, I found something out yesterday…There's lots of ways to say this…"

"'Bun-in-the-oven', 'Up-the-Duff', 'Knocked-up'…?" Stella helped.

"Exactly, so I'm just going to say it-wait! How'd you know?" Nat leant back in the chair, her mouth slightly a-gape.

"Why do you think you've been on lab duty for the past week?" she smirked. "I had my suspicions but thought it would be better for you to find out in your own steam. And if, in fact, it turned out that you weren't pregnant, the labs would probably be better off anyway."

Natalie gave a chuckle, wondering why she wasn't more surprised. Of course Stella had figured it out. "So what do we do?"

"Well, the guidelines stipulate that you can't process any scenes, or handle any of the chemicals in the labs-"

"So I'm pretty much screwed then?" she sighed.

"We already know that," Stella winked, making Nat giggle again. "You can still do the interviews, within reason, and do certain procedures. But the chemicals might have effects on the baby, so we can't risk it."

"That's fair enough, as long as I still have somewhere to go. Steven's already baby-proofing the apartment and is driving me _crazy,_" she rolled her eyes.

"Proud Pops," she smiled. "I'll give Mac a ring and tell him the good news. He'd tell you the same things I just did."

"Can we not tell the guys though? I haven't gone three months yet, unlucky and all that."

"No problem. We can tell them you're on a rotation or something; seeing things from a tech's-eye-view."

"That'd be great," she smiled. "It still hasn't sunk in for me yet. Steven's all ready and raring to go, I'm quivering in the corner scared witless."

Stella stood up, putting an arm around Natalie's shoulders as she got up too. "It'll all come together, don't worry. You'll hold that tiny little thing in your arms and everything will fall into place."

"We'll soon find out," she said, turning to her mentor. "So you'll tell Mac? Where is he, anyway?"

"It's the 22nd," Stella explained, Natalie's expression telling her she hadn't explained enough. "Claire's birthday."

"Oh! Wow."

"He always takes it off. Stays in with the home movies and photo albums. Those pictures on his desk will be different tomorrow."

"It doesn't bother you? Him still being so hung up on his ex?"

"Claire isn't exactly his ex, but she _is_ the love of his life."

"Hmm…we'll see," Nat smirked, slipping out of the office.

Stella smiled as she watched Natalie rejoin Danny in the break room, the smell of _strong_ coffee wafting through the shutting door. She grabbed the phone as she rounded the desk, dialling Mac's number.

"_Taylor."_

"Hey, it's me."

"_Hey, everything okay?"_

"Yeah, everything's fine. Danny's making the morning's sludge, and Natalie's going to be on lab duty for a bit longer."

"_How _much_ longer?"_

"Oh, I'd say about seven months."

"_Ah…"_

"Yeah, she just told me."

"_But you already knew, of course."_

"Of course. Everything okay your end?"

"_Everything's fine."_

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"_Of course, bye." _Mac smiled as he hung up, putting the phone on the sofa next to him. He turned his attention back to the photo-album on his lap, turning the page.

There was a gap in the arrangement, the page's subject being his and Claire's wedding. The missing photo was sat on his desk at work, but would be returned to the album tomorrow, and replaced with another. It was what he always did, he'd find another photograph that made him smile and remember a different happy time. He wondered, this time around, whether he should take another picture of him and Claire. He'd moved on: He had a girlfriend and no matter how understanding and amazing she was, it had to be weird to be subjected to his past while she was his future.

A couple of pages down, Stella's face smiled back at him. It was 1997 at her surprise birthday party, organised by Claire. She had been duped to believe she was going for a 'quiet drink' with her friends from work, little did she know, her 'friends from work' would be the entire day shift and some from Narcotics. Sullivan's had never been so busy.

One picture caught his eye. He vaguely remembered Claire telling him how 'close' he and Stella looked, he shrugged it off with a smirk, telling her she was just jealous that he was so 'desirable'.

Mac pulled the plastic sheet back from the page, peeling the photograph off. He looked at the younger versions of himself and Stella standing against the bar, leaning in to hear each other over the music. He had hand his hand on her arm, and had to admit; to the untrained eye it did look quite intimate. A foreshadow to the future perhaps?

The next photo he unstuck was also he and Stella: This one from New Years 2005/2006.

Stella had a metallic cone-party-hat bearing "2006!" on her head to a side, and party-popper string dangling from her corkscrew curls. Mac had his arm around her, popper string on his shoulders and stuffed in his jacket pocket.

It always had been a favourite, although now it held more of a meaning.

From tomorrow, his desk would have one picture of him and Claire: the one of her on his lap at the Christmas party in 2000; and 3 of him and Stella. If that wasn't a symbol of how much he had grown and moved on, he didn't know what was.

Mac couldn't help but wonder what Claire would make of it all. She had made herself clear of how she felt about Stella, even said she saw Stella as the next Mrs. Taylor. That was a long way down the road though. Wasn't it?


	22. Falling

My lovely beautious readers, this is will be the last update for a while. I fly outfor a much needed vacation on Saturday, but fear not, the fanfic book is already packed along with an empty book in case ;) I have plans in place for the next couple of chapters, so I'll have two weeks to explore them :) Thank you to everyone for sticking with me this far, and hopefully I might see you back here in a fortnight? Lovelovelove xxx

Thanks to Eri for the beta again :)

* * *

Stella sauntered through the halls, files in hand, destination in sight. She took a casual look around before slipping into Mac's empty office. If the walls hadn't have been glass she would have snuck in on her tip-toes just to give effect. But she _had_ a reason: she had files that Mac needed to see immediately…or, well, the day after would have done really.

She just wanted to see the new pictures. If she had a look while Mac was there, he would have been uncomfortable and trying to explain each photograph and memory; if she'd have taken Nat with her, she'd have been grinning to herself and giving 'knowing' looks. It was just easier to look by herself.

The first thing that struck her was the distinct lack of Claire. Her breath stuck a little when she saw just how many pictures of herself was there. He really was moving on; and he was moving on with her. It felt like it was just sinking in as she looked over the photographs, remembering the New Years party and recognising her birthday party, although that one was a bit of a surprise to see before her.

Did Mac remember what they had been talking about? Did he remember Stella talking him into giving his marriage one more try?

1997 had been a tough year for the Myerson-Taylor's. Every marriage goes through a rough patch, even the most loving. Careers had gotten in the way: longer hours, shorter quality time. Nobody else knew, only Stella, being the go-to-girl for both parties whenever they needed to vent. It hadn't been the easiest of times for Stella either, stuck in the middle of her bosses and her best friends' marriage woes, but she knew that Mac and Claire didn't want to break up. They just needed reassuring of that fact.

He must remember that, right?

She began to over-analyse the situation when Connor brought her crashing back to reality. "Stel? You busy?"

"Erm, no. What's up?"

"Well, Nat's supposed to be helping me out with this interview, but said she needed to go to the restrooms before we head over. She's been an age though, and we're running out of time with this suspect…"

Stella tried to hide her smile. Connor was completely oblivious to the fact that Natalie was pregnant, and more than likely in there experiencing an ever-delightful bout of morning sickness. He may be a top-rate scientist, but he was still a man after all. "I'll find her."

"Thanks. It's just, y'know, _ladies_ room an' all…" Connor said, looking uncomfortable.

She chuckled as she followed him through the halls. "So, the case going well?"

"Everything's pointing to the guy we have in custody, so after today it should be going even better."

"Don't go jumping the gun," she warned, seeing Mac coming at them from the opposite direction. Was that aimed at Connor or at herself?

"I thought you had a guy on ice," Mac said Connor, not expecting to still see him at the labs.

"Yeah, just waiting for Natalie," he said, gesturing to the ladies room ahead.

"That's where I come in," Stella called, disappearing behind the door. She was perfectly fine with the gruesome sights of crime scenes, but hearing the sound of someone vomiting always turned her own stomach, so she braced herself as she opened the second door. What she saw was something entirely different.

Natalie was sat on the cold tiled floor; her skin tainted blue from the overhead lights, her eyes glistening but barely focussed. Stella stood still for a beat, taking in the rest of the young woman, right down to the darkened patch in her grey slacks: Blood.

She ran back out the doors, shouting "Call EMT now!" to a startled Mac and Connor. She hardly heard Mac's phone flip open immediately as she disappeared back into the restrooms as fast as she came out.

Stella threw herself on the floor behind Natalie, bracing her in her arms. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

"This wasn't supposed to happen…" Nat barely whispered, her head slowly twisting to face Stella.

"Shh, you're going to be fine."

Mac slowly opened the door, peeking his head around the corner. His face fell when he saw Stella staring back at him, tears in her eyes. He could just about hear Natalie say "Things were supposed to fall into place…"

Xx

"How's she doing?" Stella asked Steven as he closed Natalie's door behind him. The paramedics had gotten to them in record time, but there was no hope. The baby was declared dead when they got to the hospital, a scan identifying the fact. Although they'd called Steven straight away, ordering him to the hospital, mid-town traffic had hindered his arrival. Stella was the one to hold Natalie's hand as the nurse searched desperately for a heartbeat, the search proving fruitless.

"…Not good. She won't talk to me. Says it's all her fault and I should just go." He wasn't doing so well himself. His shoulders were slumped and his hair was sticking out in all directions from raking his hands through it. He was trying to fight them, but tears were brimming in his dejected brown eyes.

"Want me to talk to her?"

"Would you?"

"Of course. Mac's gone getting a soda, he'll be back soon." She squeezed his shoulder before knocking on Nat's door and slipping inside.

If nothing was more insulting than being told you're unborn child was dead, it was the fact that you was still made to stay in the maternity ward. The walls of the private room were decorated in baby friendly designs, various infant-related machines against the walls. Just what she needed.

Natalie was lay under crisp white sheets, her head turned away to the far wall. Stella closed the door behind her and pulled a chair up to the bed on the side she was facing. "Hey, honey."

"Hey," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. She wiped away a wandering tear.

"How you holding up?"

Natalie shrugged, another tear running down her cheek when she blinked.

"Steven's about the same."

"He should just go."

"He won't do that, and you don't want him too really."

"He doesn't deserve this. He was so happy, so excited about the baby."

"He wasn't alone there, and he doesn't want to be alone now. He's out there with Mac when all he wants to do is be in here with you. He doesn't blame you for what happened. No one does."

"They should…" she muttered under her breathe.

"_Natalie_," Stella snapped, "You did not bring this on yourself. Nobody thinks that and neither should you. We know more than anyone that evil things happen in this world, sometimes without reason. This was one of those times. There was no reason, there was no excuse."

Natalie watched her silently. "I don't know what to say to him…"

"You tell him you love him, that's all he wants to hear."

She wiped away another escaping tear and nodded.

"Okay," Stella smiled, squeezing her chilled hand. She raked a hand through her curls and walked away. Steven spun to her when the door opened, a hopeful look on his face. Stella nodded to him and kept the door open. He mouthed a 'thank you' as he slipped past her.

Mac smiled sadly at her, holding out a steaming cup of hospital coffee. "Natalie okay?"

"She'll be fine," she nodded as he led her to the plastic bucket seats against the wall.

"And you?"

"Getting there…" she sipped the coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. "God, this is worse than Danny's," she slid down in the chair, "Ugh, what a day."

"What a day indeed." He entwined his fingers through Stella's as she rested her weary head against his shoulders.

"We're going have to get going. Danny and Connor can't handle it all by themselves…"

"I'll go back. You stay here, or go home; I don't want to see you at the labs."

"No, Mac-"

"You went through this too, Stella."

She sighed, emotionally drained and exhausted. She didn't fight him on his order, silently thankful. "Did you ever think of children? With Claire, I mean."

Mac took a breath. "Yeah, it came up. That was one of the main reasons we hit that rough patch," Stella's ears pricked. How did they not tell her it was about children? They'd never mentioned children in their vents to her… "I wanted children, she wanted a promotion. We eventually said we'd give ourselves five more years of our careers, then devote everything to starting a family."

"That would have been…2002?"

Mac nodded wistfully. "We never had a chance."

Stella sat upright and kissed him. She hadn't heard that extent of sadness in his voice since Claire had died. "There's still time. Plenty of time."

"Heh, we'll see."


	23. Trouble Afoot

Hello everybody! My vacation was awesome, but it's good to be back :) Wrote quite a few chapters over the time, so how about we get back into it:D Thanks for coming back, y'all! xx

* * *

Stella's eyes were not cooperating with the stack of paperwork she had at her side. Her head was propped on her left hand, while her right was attacking the seemingly never-ending pile. She'd dosed off on more than one occasion, jerking herself awake just before her head hit the table. Mac was watching from behind his own pile, which definitely didn't look as large as hers, with a smirk or two when she was 'resting her eyes'.

"Will you just go to bed?" he said, leaning back in his kitchen chair.

"Later. Got to finish this lot first," she replied, straightening her back and releasing the cricks in her neck.

"Finish it tomorrow. There's no way any of it's making sense anyway, you're falling asleep between each sentence."

"It'll be fine."

"You want another coffee, then?"

"I'll take a vacation if you've got one back there," she muttered flippantly with a smile, leaning her head back onto her hand.

Mac thought about that for a second. "Why don't we?"

"'Why don't we' what?" she crossed a 'T' and dotted an 'I', only half listening.

"Go on vacation." That piqued her attention. "I haven't had one in six years, you in even longer, so we have the days. _And_ I think we've pretty much earned one, after these past six months."

Stella thought over the last half year of her life: Mac's returning to war, and finally back home; The Palmer fiasco; Their relationship; Natalie's miscarriage…"Highbourne'd never go for it," she dismissed with a yawn.

"If I sorted it, would you go?" he got up and crossed to Stella, kneading at her aching and over-tired shoulders.

"Of course I would, but there's no chance you'll be able to sweet talk the Chief into letting _both _of us off for a vacation. He still frowns upon us being at work together, but being _off _together…?" she rolled her neck for easier access for Mac's fingers.

"Leave it with me," Mac said, his mind already working through solutions. "In the mean time," he took the pen out of her hand and shuffled papers together on the table, "Bed."

"Is that an order?"

He had to smirk at the naughty twinkle in her hooded eyes as she stalked to the bedroom, "Yes."

"Ooo!" She wearily sassed, a deep yawn counteracting her behaviour.

Xx

A week had passed since Mac had mentioned a vacation, but it never ventured far from his mind. Stella had all but forgotten, not believing for one second that Mac could pull it off.

He was passing through the halls, having just had the talk with Frank Highbourne. It had taken a while, a few favours had been called and some 'gentle' reminders of recent events had been mentioned. He flipped open his phone and scrolled to a number.

"_Dawn Hopkirk, Sun, Sea and Sand Travel Agency. How can I help you?" _A voice answered, her accent unmistakably New York.

"Dawn, it's Mac Taylor."

"_Well, I never! It's been a while."_

"It has. How's life been treating you?"

"_Just grand, just grand. With you?"_

"All the better for talking to you."

"_Oh you big flirt. Now is this a personal or professional call?"_

"Professional. I need a vacation, one week, leaving Saturday, to anywhere."

"_Anywhere?"_

"Anywhere with your three specialities."

"_Sun, Sea and Sand? I think I can muster something up. How many tickets? Tell me you're not going on your lonesome, 'cos I'll just book myself a ticket right here and now…"_

"Need two, but already have a person in mind, sorry."

"_Crushed! I'll give you a ring in a couple of hours with the details."_

"Thank you, Dawn."

"_Anything for you, sweet cheeks!" _

He rolled his eyes with a smirk as he flipped the phone shut, feeling quite proud of himself. Day and Swing shifts had already agreed to taking a couple of their hours, and Natalie, Connor and Danny were more than accommodating of getting rid of the boss for a week.

The next stage was convincing Stella to leave. Natalie had just returned to work, having only taken a week off claiming that sitting at home was driving her crazy. Stella had taken her even more under her wing, while Nat seemed to be handling everything better than could be expected and even promised to visit the on-staff therapist as a condition for her early return. But telling Stella that Nat was fine was a different story.

She had appointed herself to shadow the younger woman at her scenes, on hand for any help needed, professionally and/or personally speaking. When Mac had mentioned that he was hoping to take Stella away for a few days, she was practically pushing them out of the door there and then. He told her that he might just need that help when it came to telling Stella, Nat jumped at the chance.

When Mac reached his office, the message light on his desk phone was blinking. He grimaced as he listened to the voicemail.

"_Mac, my darling son, guess who? You might not remember me, but this is your mother. Remember her? The woman who was in labour with you for 14 hours? The woman who received a phone call from Martha Myerson to say how happy she was that you're moving on, and with a 'delight' such as Stella? Yes, that's the one. You don't mention this to me? Anyway, I've checked the Internet-thing, and there's a flight up here on Friday night; two tickets will be waiting for you at JFK and I'll be waiting for the reimbursement when you get here. Looking forward to seeing you. Kisses, Mom."_

He wasn't looking forward to that visit, nor putting Stella through it. He flipped open his cell phone again.

"_Dawn Hopkirk, Sun, Sea and Sand Travel Agency. How can I help you?"_

"Dawn, it's Mac again."

"_Twice in one day? I'm honoured!"_

"Change of plans for the vacation. We'll be flying from Chicago, not New York."

"_Chicago? Okay, I can work with that."_

"Looking forward to your call."

"_That's what they all say." _With that, Dawn clicked off.

Mac sat back in the chair, imagining the phone call to his mother and mentioning that little change of plans to Stella. As if on cue, the woman in question strolled past the office. He called to her, stopping her dead in her tracks, her head swivelling in all directions for the source. She finally saw Mac watching her and opened the glass doors.

"You called?"

"You might need to sit down…"

That wasn't a good way to start a conversation. She slowly descended onto the seat, asking, "What's wrong?"

"I'm in a little bit of trouble…" Stella sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees, preparing herself for what was to come. "It seems Martha had phoned my mother and mentioned how happy she was that I've moved on, and that I've moved on with you."

"Let me guess, you hadn't told your mom?" She wasn't fighting a smirk as much as Mac would have liked.

"Apart from a phone call when I got back from my tour, I haven't really spoken to her."

"And that's just added to the mess?"

"Pretty much. So how do you fancy a mini-vacation to Chicago this weekend?"

"You want _me_ to come?" She was just the slightest bit scared by that prospect.

"So does my Mom."

That was even scarier, but the look in Mac's eyes brought her back to a smirk. "Is that the vacation you talked about last week?"

"No, that's starts on Saturday."

"Excuse me?"

He nodded with a self-satisfied smile as he crossed to Stella's side of the desk, propping himself against the corner. "Yep. You, me, one week in the sun."

"You actually pulled it off?"

"You doubted?"

"For the last time," she chuckled. "So where are we going?"

"That's a surprise." He neglected to mention that it was a surprise to him too.


	24. Chicago, IL

Apologies for not updating yesterday, RL got in the way. Thanks to everyone for rejoining me on this crazy ride lol

I'd like to give a couple of special shout-out's ifI may:

1) To Melinda and Tink over at DPMB. Thanks for owning/maintaining such afun, honest, obsessed littleplace ;) x

2) Tricki. Where would I be without you, girl?

* * *

"So," Stella started, opening the tiny packet of peanuts the Air Stewardess had dropped before her, "tell me about your Mom. What am I getting myself in to?"

They'd actually gotten themselves out of New York City, headed for Chicago. Natalie had been more than accommodating, offering to drive them to the airport, and even to Chicago if need be. Nat had also been the instigator of a shopping spree with Stella, who was embarrassed to admit that she probably didn't have a swimming costume in her closet. Of course the expedition had taken a detour into Victoria's Secret at the younger woman force. Stella had to promise not to break out the fancy attire until they were far away from Mac's mother, though, because apparently Mac's smile the day after would be far too telling.

"Well, Lillian Mae Taylor, she's 77 years old, Chicago born-and-bred. Married a Marine, had me. Raised me practically single-handedly while my father was stationed overseas," Mac stated, as if reading a suspect's biography.

"So you're a Mama's boy then."

"To a degree. She was a very… attentive mother."

"Is that a nice way of saying 'suffocating'?"

He neither agreed nor denied. "She never liked the girls I would bring home, and didn't really accept Claire until the night before the wedding."

Stella's eyes went wide. "So you're feeding me to the lions then?"

"But once she accepts you, you're in the family for life," Mac smiled, not believing for a minute that it would take that long for his Mom to accept her.

"You make her sound like the Mafia or something."

"You wouldn't be far wrong. Besides, I'm whisking you away to a sunnier climate tomorrow," he smiled as if that was the deal breaker. Dawn had gotten back to him not long after his confession to Stella. One week in Portugal with sun, sea and sand. Just what the doctor had ordered.

"You had better be," she sipped at her drink and stole Mac's peanut packet. (It was only fair.) "How come I've never met her before?"

"She didn't come to Claire's funeral, she was in Florida caring for my sick aunt. She's never ventured out of Chicago otherwise, not even to follow my Dad to various parts of the World. She resented that he joined the Marines, and has never trusted airlines anyway."

"She resented your Dad joining the Marines?"

"She thought he'd signed his own death certificate, when it was actually the 30 cigarettes a day that was his death warrant. But you can imagine how she was when I signed up."

She scrunched her face at the thought. "Did she ever marry again? After your father passed?"

"No, she believed Dad was her only love and that she'd had her chance. She never dated."

That worried Stella just the slightest. She almost choked on a peanut, grabbing her drink to abate her coughing.

"Hey," Mac started, "That's what _she_ believes, I'm having a second chance."

Xx

"You ready?" He asked, holding her hand and taking a deep breath before knocking on his Mom's door. They'd dropped their suitcases at a local hotel and grabbed the nearest taxi to Mac's childhood home.

"Are you?" She almost chuckled, trying to still the heartbeat in her ears. Meeting the parents was never an easy task, and it was one she'd only done once before.

"Hello, Mom," he smiled warmly as the door swung open. A wizened old woman was at the other side, her already short frame slightly hunched over but none-the-less fiesty.

"Get in, get in, quick, before-" she sighed dramatically as Mac and Stella slipped past her fast and confused. She waved her hand dismissively into the hall where a door was open a jar, sending a new shaft of light into the corridor. "Yes, Mrs. Finchburgen, it's only my son, you can crawl back into your hole now." She closed the door, muttering "You old busy-body, mind your own damn business."

"Hi, _Mom_," Mac smiled again, slightly embarrassed and trying to get the old woman's attention back to the guests.

"Ah, my boy!" she called, clamping her hands on either side of Mac's face and pulling him down for a kiss on both cheeks. "Hello," she said to Stella, before turning back to her son. "How was the flight? Did those stupid airlines delay your flight again?"

"No, no, the flight was fine. Mom, this is Stella Bonasera," he said, swapping her hand into his other and slipping the free arm around her back. "It's been a crazy few months, so we never got around to telling you about us."

"This your first time in Chicago?" Lillian asked, no emotion in her voice.

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's a nice city," she replied, turning her back on the guest again and hurrying into the kitchen calling "I hope you brought your hunger with you!" to Mac more than Stella.

Stella gave a worried glance to Mac, who brought their entwined fingers to his mouth and kissed her hand. "Starving, Mom."

Xx

Lillian collected Mac's plates and her own and shuffled into the kitchen. It had been a nice meal, they'd all caught up on recent events in each others lives, and Mac and Stella's relationship had been discussed at length, including why Martha Myerson knew about it before Lilly. Stella was still receiving a chilly reception from the host, but Mac was bringing her into the conversations and including her, so she wasn't _as _frustrated, but she really didn't know how much more she could take.

If it wasn't for the fact that Lilly was Mac's Mom, Stella would have blown her top and most likely stalked out by now. She could feel herself getting more and more annoyed and wondering just why she was there, especially since Lilly was making it perfectly clear she was only abiding her for her son's sake.

She watched the conversation between Lilly and Mac, it was nice to see. She could only imagine what he was going through, introducing his girlfriend to his Mom. He first girlfriend since the death of his wife. The wife who's parents seemed to be good friends with Lilly. Oh, who was she kidding? Lilly was not going to accept her. She didn't believe in second loves, and what was Stella? That's right, a second love. She should just cut her losses and split.

Mac excused himself to the bathroom, leaving Lilly and Stella alone. Lillian collected her plate and Mac's and stalked into the kitchen with a scowl. "For Mac," she said, following her with her own crockery.

"That was very nice, Thank you," she tried to smile as she put the plates into the sink.

Lilly spun around, Stella just now realising how close she was to her. The older woman dropped a cloth onto the counter and practically snapped, "What are your intentions?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your intentions, with my son."

This was getting ridiculous, and was just the fodder that Stella needed to let it all out. "Listen, _ma'am, _I know Mac is your son, and that you probably know him better than anyone, so you should be able to see how much he loves me. I'm not stupid, I know he'll never love me as much as he did Claire, but I'm fine with that. If I get even a portion of that kind of love, I'll be a lucky woman. As for me, I love Mac, I know I always will and I'm beginning to realise I always have. So I'm fine with waiting around for you to see that too, because as long as he wants me, I'm not going anywhere."

Lillian looked at her. She brought her hands to her hips and pursed her lips, before softening and turning to Mac who had appeared in the doorway. Smiling, she told him, "I like her."

"I knew you would," he grinned, making his way over to Stella and wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Wait, I'm confused…"

"I needed to know that you wouldn't let an old woman stand in the way of your feelings for my son," Lillian smiled, her whole demeanour completely different to that of not 5 minutes ago. "It took Claire 4 years to finally snap, it took you a couple of hours. I like that."

Stella's jaw was slightly agape when she turned to Mac, "You knew about this?"

"I couldn't tell you that you needed to shout at my 77 year old Mother, now could I?"

"Who wants dessert?"


	25. En Route

This chapter is pretty much just an A-to-B one, getting them from Chicago and to Portugal.

The fun begins next week ;)

Though, gotta say, pretty proud you all liked Lillian heehee I was thinking of my Nan while I wrote her lol

* * *

It was such a weird transition. If Lillian Taylor and Stella Bonasera had been left in a room together just one day ago, fireworks would have gone off. But now? Not only were they alone in a room, but in a whole house while Mac collected some groceries for his mom.

Stella and Mac had been invited for breakfast, before there afternoon flight to Europe. It was going amazingly well, a completely different reception from the matriarch of the family.

"So where is my boy taking you?"

"Portugal," Stella smiled, bringing her coffee to her mouth. "It's my first time to Europe."

"It's beautiful this time of year," Lilly nodded, "Michael on The Weather Channel said so yesterday." She moved her remote control onto the other arm of her chair, as if solidifying this Michael's knowledge.

Stella smiled, "Well, it's my first time out of the country, so it'd be beautiful even if it was pouring with rain." She received a look of mild shock. "I grew up in an orphanage," she explained, "so we couldn't exactly afford it then. I worked two jobs to get me through college so not only couldn't I afford a vacation, I didn't have time. Then I've worked with Narcotics and CSI for the past 18 years and just never really got around to one. I don't like taking the time off, and didn't really have someone to go with until now."

"You've had quite a life, haven't you?"

"Not quite enough for my own True Hollywood Story, but getting there." The reference left Lilly cold, but she smiled non-the-less. "Is that Mac?" Stella asked, spying a picture on the mantle-piece and getting up to take a closer look.

A young boy, of no more than 12, stood by a lake his back to the chest of presumably his father. The shining green eyes unmistakably Mac's. The older man held out a reel of fish, obviously caught in a father-son team, his demeanour so proud. "That's my boy with his father, Julian."

"Where they close?"

"When Juli was home, yes. You couldn't not be close to Juli, he just had that aura about him. I think Mac got it from him. Mac idolised him, even went so far as to follow him to the Marines. Broke my heart that day. My baby signing his death warrant."

It hadn't gone unnoticed that she used the exact words Mac had. "I've only known 'ex-Marine' Mac. Didn't quite know what to make of him being reinstated."

"It was a shock for me too. I know you stood by him though. He would tell me of your emails in the calls home he made." She looked at her pointedly, "He often talked of you, you know. After Claire's death, he would say how it was you who was holding him together. It killed me that I couldn't be there for him, but my sister just kept on hanging on," Lilly said, as if it was typical for her sister to inconvenience her. "And what you said yesterday about Mac not loving you as much as Claire? Ah, baloney! A mother knows."

"I'm back!" Mac called, closing the door behind him. "I'd have been back sooner but Mrs. Finchburgen caught me in the hallway."

Lillian got up and followed her son into the kitchen, leaving a dumbstruck Stella still clutching the photograph.

Xx

The Captain informed the passengers that the rest of the flight looked like it should run smoothly, with 'Flubber' being the in-flight movie and approximately five more hours left in the air.

Stella had taken the window seat, Mac the middle, an unknown sleeping gentleman the aisle. They'd put the seat-divider up between them, partly due to the sleeping man's rolling head, partly so Mac could see out the window (and partly so Mac was up close to Stella).

The seemingly bottomless ocean shimmered below the plane, the late-afternoon sun dazzling off the waves. Serenity at it's best.

Xx

Stella dropped her suitcase near the chest of drawers, Mac closing the door behind him. He watched as she took a furtive glance around their new home-away-from-home, before heading straight to the balcony and throwing open the curtains. "Look at that view…"

"Beautiful."

"I meant the sea," she smirked, unable to rip her eyes from the cliff-tops and ocean in the not-so-distance. The setting sun shimmered on the waves.

He didn't reply.

Stella spun back around, assessing the room like it was a scene, although dreading what she might find if actually processing it as it was. Bathroom to the right of the front door; double closet on the wall; double bed. Amazing view. This actually was heaven, she was there.

She sat down on the bed, rolling shoulders before leaning all the way back.

"What do you want to do? We could go out and get a meal…"

"Sleep…" she murmured, her eyes already closed.

"Or we could sleep," he chuckled. He set his suitcase on the floor and clicked the clasps, bringing out a tee-shirt to wear. Stella managed to tear herself away from the comfort of the bed for long enough to grab her sleep-shorts and vest top. As she rifled through the case, her fingers hit the box of her Victoria's Secret surprise. Maybe tomorrow.

They both changed and climbed under the sheets, Stella resting her head on Mac's shoulders. With a kiss to her curls, they both promptly fell asleep.


	26. Miles Away

So many apologies for not updating sooner, RL kinda blew up at me.

Hope you like xxx

* * *

"What do you think they're doing right now?" Natalie asked, her mind miles away from her body. She was leaning against the break room counter, hot cup of coffee in her hands.

Danny, sitting at the table, replied, "Mac and Stella? They'll be sat by the pool, sipping sangria, talking about work."

"Work? No no no , you don't talk about work when you're in Paradise."

"They would."

"You think?"

Danny was nodding his head, when he saw Connor walk past the room. Hoping for a little backup, he called him in, "Hey, Connor, What are Mac and Stella doing right now?"

He thought about it, "Beach…drink with umbrella…working out a case."

"Thank you!" Danny called, turning triumphantly back to Natalie. "Told ya."

"That's just so sad. Why would they talk shop over _there_?"

Connor disappeared back into the halls while Danny made his way over to his colleague. He had that twinkle in his eye that worried her just the slightest. "What you don't understand, Nat," his voice turned deeper, huskier and dripping with the proverbial sex. He slipped his arm around her shoulders, "is that for Mac and Stella work is _foreplay_. The long, hard guns…the tough, mean bodies…the bravado…the power…the 'cuffs…"

"Oh, take me now!" She sassed pushing back from him, suddenly and secretly jealous of Aiden.

Xx

"Okay, where's MTV and who's Crib is this?" Stella muttered, first setting her eyes on to the poolside. The deep turquoise sea shimmered in the distance, the light blue water of the infinity pool in the foreground, seemingly blending into each other. The restaurant behind them gently played some unknown music while general chatter of holiday makers surrounded them.

Mac led them over to two free sun-loungers and spread their towels over the top. Stella was still trying to peel her gaze away from the view, but seeing Mac pull his tee shirt over his head did the trick. She slipped out of her flip-flops and stripped down to a chocolate-lime bikini. Mac watched as she lay down on the bed and leant into him whispering, "This is the most naked I've been in public for 38 years."

Xx

"I'm going for a dip," Mac announced, swinging his legs around to the side. "Comin'?"

Stella nodded and followed him to the pools edge. She sat down, dangling her legs into the cool water watching as Mac dipped both feet and eventually dived straight in, coming up for air in the middle.

Stella was most definitely impressed. She debated whether to do the womanly thing and slide herself in, or do the Stella-thing and give Mac a run for his money by diving in after him…

She watched as he raked a hand through his hair, beckoning her in. She pulled her legs back out, stood up and dived in.

"Hi," he grinned as she came up next to him, pushing sodden curls from her face and rubbing water from her eyes.

"Hi."

"Nice form," he told her, motioning to the waters edge and her diving board.

"Not in front of the children, Mac," she whispered, feigning shock. He spluttered that he didn't mean it like she had taken it, but she just chuckled and kissed him. "Stella 1, Mac 0."

Stella looked around, seeing the sea from the new direction. It really was paradise incarnate. But she still couldn't shake the feeling that it was a Monday and she wasn't at work.

"Stop it," Mac demanded.

"Stop what?"

"Thinking about work. Switch off. Relax."

"I am. Relaxing that is," she almost lied.

He didn't believe her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. It was a _good _kiss, PG13 but enough to blank Stella's mind of everything but the man in front of her.

"What work?" she breathed.

Xx

"_What _are you doing?" Mac snapped, twisting his head to Stella. They were sat under an umbrella at the poolside, Stella texting away on her blackberry. "You're supposed to be on vacation!"

"I am on vacation! Note the pool," she smirked, gesturing.

"Who are you messaging?"

"…Natalie."

"You were supposed to leave that at home. This vacation was supposed to be all about us, no work at all." He knew she wouldn't be able to stay 100 work free.

"It still is. I just wanted to check she was doing okay, that she was coping and didn't need any help on her case."

"Give me the phone." He held his hand out.

"Let me just send this…"

"Now Stella."

She clicked 'send' quickly and reluctantly handed over the phone. After a few minutes, Mac turned back to her, asking, "What did she say?"

She smirked, he was in exactly the same boat as she was. "She said everything was fine. Everyone's behaving and if I text her again then she's going to strand us at the airport and take a week off for harassment."

"…right. Well, I guess we have to take our minds off work somehow."

"I'm sure we'll think of something…"


	27. The Balcony

Apologies! I'm a bad author.

* * *

Mac woke up to an empty bed. With no clocks to look at, he instinctively turned to the patio window to look at the night sky. He wasn't expecting to see the door open, the white net curtains wavering in the playful breeze.

He rubbed at his eyes as he rolled out of bed, looking across the balcony and seeing Stella sat on a white plastic chair, her feet propped on another. She was staring intently out to the distant sea, her mind a million miles away from her body.

He kissed her curls as he passed her to a free chair, startling her from her reverie. "What time is it?"

"I'm thinking about four-ish. Did I wake you?"

He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair. "What are you doing out here?"

"Thinking," she said, turning back to the star-spotted ocean. "There's something about the sea that makes you think."

"It's very therapeutic," Mac agreed, following her gaze.

"I was thinking about the past few months. Then the next few months. Where I want to be in five years…"

"What did you decide?"

"That anything can happen. Maybe Natalie'll get pregnant again, actually go to term. Maybe Danny and Aiden will get married," Mac looked at her, "Hey, it could happen! Maybe they'll marry and maybe someone close to us will die again."

"Well, I'm not planning on going anywhere."

"Me nether, but that's not how it works, is it? I mean, if you asked me five years ago where I'd be now? I would never have dreamed I would have been sat on a balcony in Portugal with you of all people. I would have said that I would maybe have been a Supervisor myself, maybe not even in New York, but still working way too many hours. I would have said that you would still be happily married to Claire, probably with a couple of kids by now. And look at us?"

"I don't think we've done too bad for ourselves. We've had our ups and our downs, but ultimately, I'm happy."

"Oh, me too, don't get me wrong," she smiled, grabbing hold of his hand, "But it just makes you think, you know?"

Mac nodded, entwining his fingers through hers. "Where do you see yourself in five years, now?"

"At the risk of scaring you off…right here," she smiled at him as he kissed her hand.

They sat in silence for a while, breathing the early morning air and contemplating the universe. Stella stole a glance to her side, looking at the profile of the man she never thought would be hers. He was so handsome, and, as he said, looked happy. She took secret pride to that, not just for their antics a few hours before. It had taken him a long time to look happy again, to be back to the Mac she knew so well. She also took pride to the fact that the smile that wasn't so deeply buried wasn't with the help of any secret of Victoria's.

Xx

Mac and Stella strolled through the foyer of the hotel, Stella's attention buried in the 'New York Times' they'd managed to find. Mac partook in some people watching, his observation skills hard to lose even when on vacation. After creeping back to bed and catching a few more hours sleep, they'd spent the day in the town, taking in the bars and shops, relishing in the fact that they were just two holiday makers away together, not the controversial CSI Supervisor and right-hand woman.

They came to a stop at the elevator doors, "You got the key?" she asked, holding her hand out, still looking at an article.

Mac silently graced her palm with a key.

"No, it's a swipe card, remember?" Stella said, looking to the Yale-lock key in her hand.

"I know," he nodded. What was going on?

"What's this then?"

"The key to my place. I want you to move in."

Stella stopped dead. Her body frozen on the spot, watching as Mac stepped into the carriage and turned back to face her.

"What?" she managed to ask, her throat suddenly dry. The doors began to close springing Stella into action as she jutted her hand in between the closing gap. She stepped in, her eyes never leaving his face. "What?"

"I want you to move in," he reiterated, looking straight at her. His emerald green eyes the only place expressing the fear and insecurity he felt. He clicked the button for their floor, the doors sliding shut again.

"You're not ready…" she said after a beat, not sure herself if it was a question or not.

"You have to stop doing that, you know." Her face questioned his statement. "Telling me if I'm ready or not. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think I was ready; If I didn't think I wanted you to live with me and if I didn't think I loved you."

Her tense body softened. She wondered if he realised that that was the first time he'd said he loved her since the confessional that began their relationship. "You're sure?"

He smiled, his own body relaxing knowing that she was close to saying she would. He wrapped his arms around her waist, "I'm sure."

Stella gave a content sigh and clasped her hands behind his neck, "Then I will."

Mac chuckled at the size of her grin and leant in to kiss her.


	28. New York, NY

SoSo_So _many apologies for the delay! I had hoped to have this done a week ago today, it being the 6th month anniversary of posting this, but it just didnt work out. But, in honour of you all sticking with me in this crazy ride...free cookies for all! xx

* * *

The plane was nearing the end of it's descent into JFK airport. The pilot had asked passengers to put their seats and tray-tables in the upright position and for the flight crew to take their seats, so until actual touchdown the only thing to do was watch the famed skyline come closer into view as the sun set behind it.

Mac blinked at the gaping hole in the landscape, trying not to make himself obvious. He succeeded, but Stella squeezed his hand regardless. The view didn't look to have changed any in the week they'd been apart.

The wheels skidded to a halt, and it didn't take very long to find their luggage on the belts.

Waiting in the arrivals lounge, Mac meandered through the crowd to the paper stall while Stella kept a keen eye for Natalie.

"Stel-" Natalie was cut off by a rude businessman who crossed her path, "Hi! Walking here!" she called back. "Stella! Over here!"

Stella grinned at the display, it was good to be back. "Hey! How are you?" She asked as the younger woman pulled her in for a hug.

"Oh my God, is it good to see you! How was it? Where's Mac? Did something happen?" Her mouth running away with itself.

"He's getting a paper, nothing happened! Well, no, _something _happened…"

Natalie's eyes practically popped out of her head, but before she could demand details, the man in question returned, causing her say "Lunch; me, you, tomorrow."

Mac smiled, "Natalie."

"Mac, good time?"

"Extremely."

Nat grinned an impressed look to Stella who couldn't help but chuckle. "Ready?"

Xx

"I'll see you both tomorrow?" Nat asked, opening the drivers-side door. Mac and Stella were on the side-walk outside of Stella's apartment building, cases in hand and the homeowner rooting through her purse for her keys.

"With the dawn," Mac said, pulling a hold-all on to his shoulder.

"And lunch, Stella?"

"Tomorrow," she nodded, finally pulling out the fob from the depths of her bag. "Thanks for picking us up."

"Anytime. See you guys," she smiled, climbing back into the car and driving home to Steven.

The sun had fully set casting New York into shadows, highlighted by the stars and rising moon above. Stella attempted to grab the remaining bag, causing Mac to steal it from her grasp. She loved that chivalry wasn't dead.

Stella unlocked the doors to her building and her apartment, keeping them open for Mac to manoeuvre into. He set the bags down as she declared "Home, sweet home."

"Not for much longer…"

"Ah, that's right. I'm going to have to figure out what to do with this place," she looked around the room. She'd lived there for so long now, it was going to be weird thinking of somebody sleeping in her bed and eating at her table.

"Well, I've actually been thinking about that…" Mac mentioned, following her down the few steps and onto the couch.

"Of course you have," she smirked.

"Connor. He's still commuting, or finding a woman to spend the night with to stay in the city, apparently, if he took this place, you'd know it was in safe hands. He wouldn't keep being late to work and I think he'd really appreciate it."

"He actually sleeps with women so he can get to work the next day?"

"So I've been told…"

"He doesn't need an apartment, he needs a slap upside the head," Stella muttered, rifling through her mail.

"As true as that is, I think the apartment might be a better idea…"

"I'll ask him tomorrow," she smiled. "Any other problem-solving ideas?"

He pretended to think for a moment, "Not for this apartment, but I do have a couple for World Peace."

She chuckled, "Of course you do."

Xx

"It's so good to have you back," Nat sighed, draping her jacket over the back of her chair in the small diner. "There's been a serious testosterone overload at the office."

"And you loved it," Stella smirked.

"I didn't say I didn't," she pursed her lips, her eyebrows blending into her hairline.

"So, come on then. What did I miss?"

"What did you miss? What did _I _miss?" Natalie suddenly remembered the cryptic conversation at the airport. She put her menu back down the table, all eyes on Stella.

"The vacation was amazing," she chuckled. "The pools were MTV-worthy and the food was just…" Her listener was eager for something else, apparently. "Oh, and Mac asked me to move in."

She practically had a seizure right there and then. "He asked you to _move in_? Why didn't you _start _with that? Did you say yes? Speak!"

"Only if you breathe! I am in fact moving in," she grinned.

"That is so great, Stella. Seriously, so happy for you two."

"Me too. But, I already know about that, I want to know what's been going on around here."

Natalie looked through her menu again, "Well, Connor and…I always forget her name…Marly? Yeah, Connor and Marly have split up. _He _was too clingy apparently," her raised eyebrow told of the absurdity of the comment.

"This coming from the woman who had her tongue firmly rooted down Connor's ear at the ball?"

"The one and only. He's not too beat up about it though, and Amy is very nice."

"There's an Amy?"

"There's an Amy," she'd only known the guy for three months, but already she was lost on his list of conquests. "Danny and Aiden are still going strong, still a bad influence on each other."

"That's not going to change."

"Not in this lifetime. And…Steven and I are trying for another baby…"

"Natalie, I'm so happy," Stella smiled, grabbing her hand over the table.

"Yeah," she grinned, "We haven't been trying for long, but I've enrolled the help of Victoria and her secrets…"

"Hey, you can have my 'secret' if you want it. Still in the box."

Nat chuckled, impressed. "No wonder Mac said the vacation went _extremely _well!"


	29. Milestone

Okay, I allow you all to beat me with sticks. In fact, here are some sticks to beat me with. I fully planned to have this up before last weekend when I went away. But that weekend turned into a near-on week of vacation and pushed this back. So many apologies! I hope you can forgive me!

----

It was on. Moving Day. Stella had woken up early and eager, her mind running wild with what was to go Mac's and what was to stay for Connor. She'd managed to sweet talk Danny, Connor and even Steven into helping her haul her belongings to her new home.

Natalie was grinning wildly when she followed her husband into Stella's old place. On more than one occasion she'd sang to her "You're moving in with a boy!", but it kept falling on stony ground with the recipient never having seen that episode of _Friends, _which just made Nat giggle.

They all grabbed trash bags of clothes and boxes of books, DVDs and general necessities and threw them into their waiting cars on the street below.

"Are you sure you have everything?" Natalie asked Stella, taking one last look around her apartment. It seemed the same, all the furniture was still there for Connor and art was still on the walls, there being no room for them at Mac's. Just the bookshelves were empty, and the photographs of friends had been packed away. It was so strange.

"Yeah. Got it all," she smiled somewhat sadly, taking a deep breath. She locked the door and passed the keys onto Connor. "S'all yours."

"Thank you," Connor grinned. "And here, my first months rent. I know you said you didn't want it yet, but here," she handed her an envelope, "Have a celebratory meal. Or take out."

She smiled, reluctantly taking it and placing it into her bag.

"Come on, Mac'll be waiting for his new roomie." Nat said, linking arms with Connor and practically skipping down the hall.

Stella took one last look at her door, her fingers tracing the number plate. "Here goes…"

Xx

When the cars pulled up at Mac's door, Stella jumped out first. She was debating whether to use the key or not but was saved when the door opened and Mac stepped out, "What took you so long?"

"Traffic. Okay, listen," She warned, twisting the handle of her bag in her fingers. "There's still time to back out. I'll get over it, just say the word."

Mac looked into her eyes, green meeting green, and chuckled. He looked over her shoulder and waved the watchers in. "Welcome home," he told her.

Xx

The boys and Natalie and Stella had thrown everything into the house, leaving the owners be and shooting down to Sullivan's for a well-earned drink.

Stella marvelled at how what little she thought she had brought now practically filled Mac's bedroom. Their bedroom. He shuffled some books around to make room for hers on the shelf, keeping the multiples she'd brought in the boxes. Same with the DVDs, though there were very few multiples, and, really, very few of Mac's.

He left her to her own devices when it came to the closet. He went to make some sandwiches for lunch as she placed her work clothes next to his in the tall wardrobes. Putting the hangers on to the rail, Stella realised how over-prepared she actually was. She had had a million scenarios race through her mind all week of how Mac might have been when replacing Claire's things with hers, how she was claiming Claire's space as hers, but he was taking it remarkably well. Maybe she underestimated him. Maybe he really was ready for this step, and maybe for any other steps. Maybe it was Stella who wasn't ready.

Stella folded the now-empty hold-all into itself and arched her back, kneading out taught muscles along her spine. She pushed the bag onto the top shelf of the closet, punching it into the small gap between suitcases and other rucksacks. Unknown to her, as she pushed the hold-all in, a box at the other end was becoming dislodged. She only noticed when it crashed the ground, spilling its contents across the carpet.

"Damn-it," she cursed, bending down. Photographs were strewn across the floor, a small velveteen box had bounced behind her to the bed and what looked like a deflated poolside toy had dropped with a thud.

She was right, it was a beach ball that had been folded delicately, the stopper still in its place. She placed it back into the box, collecting up the photographs as she did so. They all seemed to be of Mac and Claire: Wedding day, honeymoon, house-warming. Even one with the couple and a baby Stella didn't recognise. Neither Mac nor Claire had siblings, so it must have been a friend's child, or a cousin's maybe. She shuffled them back together and put them next to the ball in the box. It was only when she looked in the small velveteen case that she realised what she was dealing with.

Shining back at her was the gold wedding band Mac had worn for 17 years of married life. It had the occasional imperfection, but which was only expected for the amount of time it was worn daily. She tried to think back to when she had realised he wasn't wearing it anymore. It was before they had started their relationship, maybe even before he went back to war. She half expected him to start wearing it again after he came back. He didn't though.

"What are you doing?" Mac snapped, practically slamming the plate he was carrying on the dressing table. He bounded up to her, grabbing the ring box and clasping it shut before throwing it back into the box. "Is this what you're going to do? Root through my stuff?" he shouted, pushing the box back into the closet and slamming the door closed.

"Whoa, whoa, the box fell, I was putting it back," she defended, standing back up.

"After you had a good nose-through?"

Stella was all ready to shout to her defense when she took check of herself. "I'm not going to talk to you if you're just going to accuse me before you've thought the situation through. I'm not going to fight with you, but what I am going to do is take my sandwich and go into the kitchen. Join me when that vein in your forehead isn't as prominent." Stella took the plate from the side and left Mac to his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few minutes, stepping into the kitchen. She was sat at the table, her back to him, placing her half-eaten sandwich back onto the plate. "I'm sorry for what I said back there."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not," he whispered, sitting down opposite her. "I guess this is a little harder on me than I liked to admit. It's not that I don't want you to move in, or that I don't love you, it's just…"

"This was your house with Claire. I get it, believe me." Her serious and sympathetic look turned smug, "I was actually prepared for this."

"I saw," he chuckled, "Very impressed with calm-Stella back there."

"I'm always calm," she said, mock-hurt.

Mac grinned as he stole half of her sandwich. "So, that was our first fight."

"Please, we've had hundreds before and all a million times worse than _that._"

"Yeah, but that was our first fight as cohabitating adults."

"'_Cohabitating_'?" she giggled.

"What should I have said?"

"Shacked-up, maybe, I don't know, but 'cohabitating' sounds like what they're doing with the Pandas down at the zoo."

"So, we're shacked up?"

"We're shacked up."


	30. Wined and Dined

Lookit! An update in quick succession! I am absolutely floored that this is chapter 30. _Floored. _My longest fic before was 14 chapters, and my last baby was 9 'Nothing Ventured' - I recognise some of you from there, so thank you again :D. But this one, wow. My new and favourite baby. I cannot possibly thank you all enough. Seriously. Thank you.

---

If there was one thing that you should probably, but never quite can, get used to in Stella's job, it was weeks from hell. Sometimes it might not be a week, it might just be a few days. Of course, sometimes it could a month or more. This time, it narrowed itself to seven days, thankfully.

But still, it was a week where Stella didn't sleep, had to remind herself to eat and barely saw Mac expect passing in the hall or a late-night-early-morning pep-talk where "if anyone can do this, you can."

That week was over. She'd solved the case where the suspect refused to talk without throwing the table on its end; where the Feds took an interest and nearly ruined the whole investigation; and where the victim, just six years of age, was too paralysed in fear to be able to give anything tangible to get the rat-bastard and throw away the key. But, as Mac had said, if anyone could solve that kind of case, Stella could. Even if it meant at least 36 hours without sleep or food.

She knew one day it was going to kill her. Immersing herself so deeply into a case, into a search for justice for an irreparably damaged child, couldn't be healthy.

Stella wearily managed to put one foot in front of the other as she made her way to the door. She twisted the key into the lock and called for Mac, getting no reply. It was nice to be able to come home to someone, a person who knew exactly what you'd been through and how much it mattered to you. It had only been two months of 'cohabitation', but each day was still bringing a new, nice, surprise.

If one had an earlier morning than the other, a full coffee pot awaited them, maybe with the morning paper on the table if they had time. Sometimes Mac would leave the paper open to an article he thought Stella might be interested in, and more-times-than-not, he was right. A number of times they'd left a note to each other on the bathroom mirror while one of them was in the shower: "Danny called, meet him at 1110 Bway at 9 x", "DVD and take out tonight?", "Lunch Massimo's - 1.30 x "

Right now, all Stella wanted was a bed. Nice crisp sheets, alarm clock switched off for the duration of her day off the next day and hopefully a warm body to cuddle up to. The latter seemed a bit of wishful thinking for the moment, with the preferred 'warm body' not home.

She dumped her bags near the door and put her jacket on the hook, peeled the shoes from her feet and padded to the fridge. There wasn't much to enjoy, with grocery shopping going to the backburner for the week, but she grabbed a bottle of water and broke off a piece of cheese. It probably wasn't the best idea - cheese before bed - but it was something to liven her mouth up which was all she wanted.

She lugged her tiresome body to the bathroom, grimaced at her pale and bagged reflection and finally set sight on that lovely bed.

Only, something was obstructing the lovely bed. She took a step closer, the object properly coming into view behind sliced eyes. It was a dress. A beautiful dress. Chocolate brown in colour, empire waist in shape and with a note safety-pinned to the front.

'_You deserve to be wined and dined after a week like that. Meet me at Massimo's 8pm. Love, Mac x' _

She couldn't help the groan that escaped. As unbelievably romantic as the whole thing was, it was going to seriously impeach on her time in the lovely bed before her. She checked her watch: 7pm, plenty of time to have a longer-than-usual shower and wash the stench of death and rat-bastards from her hair and skin. And, after all, she had the perfect shoes and bag to go with that dress.

Xx

The cab pulled to a stop outside the blacked out frontage of Massimo's infamous gem. Stella paid the ogle-some driver and looked in confusion at the seemingly empty restaurant. It _was_ tonight, right? She checked the note again, having put it into her bag for safe-keeping. 'Massimo's 8pm', and there she was, outside Massimo's at 8pm…alone?

She checked the street, seeing no Mac and not really anyone at all. It was all too weird. The door gave no budge to a firm pull, and it didn't look like any lights were on inside when she pushed her face and cupped hand to the window.

Her hand was circled around her cell phone when a light seemed to 'swing' into view down the alley next door. She knew the backdoor to the building was around the corner so went to investigate. Sure enough, the backdoor was open, a bright warm light emitting from within.

She checked around her, just because she was a cop and should be sure, and went for the door.

"Hello? Mac? Massimo?" she called, stepping foot into the lit kitchen. Lit _deserted_ kitchen. It really was getting too weird. "Mac? What's going on?" She walked to the port-holed double doors that led to the main room.

As she swung them open, the restaurant erupted into life. The lights came on in their usual dull-yet-romantic night shade, the stereo-system blurted out Eric Clapton's 'Wonderful Tonight', forever immortalised as being the song they danced to when they bailed on the 'mandatory' attendance ball. It was all falling into place, letting Stella relax and enjoy the wining and dining she was about to receive.

"I knew that dress would look perfect on you," Mac announced from behind the bar. He'd stationed himself there when he'd seen her press her face to the window. He saw her, but she didn't see him. He had ran through from the back door to that spot, able to control the lights and music from switches under the counter.

Stella turned to his voice, her eyes finally setting sight onto the flowers that lined the bar. Easily half-a-dozen bouquets of roses and tulips, repeated respectively, stood across the curved counter, their aromas finding their way to her senses. Tea-light candles were in between each vase.

"Well, you have good taste," she said, remembering that Mac had actually said something. "Are these all for me?"

"Later," Mac smiled and gestured to a table set up in the middle of the floor. She took a seat as he brought over two Sapphire Martini's, her favourite cocktail.

He set them down as he tipped her chin up and kissed her. "Hi."

"Hi."

"You okay?"

"I'm good," she smiled, watching as he took his seat. The bags under her eyes didn't go unnoticed, no matter how much she tried to conceal them. "So what's all this in aid of?"

He dug into the inside pocket of his blazer jacket, "I have something to ask you…"


	31. That Was The Night That Was

SO many apologies. I know I seem to say this with every update, so apologies for that too. The computer died a death, I went and saw 'Wicked', Word wasn't put back into the computer…hectic.

So, sorry for that, and sorry for this ;)

Oh! And thank you to those who nominated me in the CSIFanFic Awards over at LJ! Totally floored. Check out my profile for info on how to vote, I would be ever-so-grateful :) xxx

Tricki: Sorry honey, it's coming, promise :) xxx

* * *

Her breath caught. _'Is he…?' _Her hand grabbed for the drink, the liquid soothing on her dry throat, though with enough of a kick that it prepared her what _might _be coming.

"Stella, I know we've only been dating for less than a year and living together for less than 2 months, _but…_I wanted to ask…which colour is better for the bedroom? I'm thinking of redecorating." He fanned out colour-swatches in his hand.

"You…?" Words were lost, and that didn't happen often to Stella Bonasera. Her gaze travelled from the paint cards to the amused and smug look adorning Mac's face. She chuckled, visibly softening in embarrassment. "Alright, alright, you got me, you got me."

He chuckled, sipping at his drink. As the glass touched the table again, his features, voice and demeanour changed instantaneously. "This past year would have been unbearable without you. I don't know if I would have fought so hard to come back if you wasn't waiting for your jewellery."

She silently and subconsciously twisted the ring, still on her finger where he had left it all those months ago, while he smiled at the memory.

"You once said that you were wondering where the 'Old Mac Taylor' had gone. You brought him back. Only you. What I'm trying to say, pretty poorly really, is that I took too long to find you and I don't want to lose you." He stood up, only to go down on one knee before her. She looked at him with doe-like eyes, tears burning beneath the surface. "So, Stella Bonasera, will you marry me?"

She stared at him, her eyes dropping to the _beautiful _ring and back again. She saw, for only the second time ever, vulnerability in his eyes. Vulnerability and hope and unadulterated love. It struck her head-on in that moment just how much she loved him, and how much she could love him. For the rest of her natural born life and whatever might come after.

"Say some-"

"-I cant."

"…what?"

She got up and paced a few steps, one hand raking through her hair, another wiping an escaped tear from her cheek. "Oh God. Oh my God…" she muttered.

"You…_cant_? I don't understand."

"Neither do I," she sighed, still pacing somewhat frantically. "I just-I just know I cant marry you."

"Stella, will you just _stop_?" he asked, standing up. "Stop walking and _explain_."

She did stop. She turned to face him, her gaze cast to the floor, unable to face those eyes. "I cant marry you, Mac. I'm sorry. You have no idea how much I love you, but I just…_cant_."

He stared at her, not fully comprehending the gutting words escaping from her mouth. He blinked. "I need something better than 'just cant', Stella. I deserve something better."

"I know you do, you deserve everything, but there's nothing I can give you. Maybe it's just tonight, I don't know. Maybe it's that I've just come off a week-long shift and I'm tired and irritable. Maybe it's that we've only been dating for ten months, and only living together for two. Maybe we're just going too fast. Hell, maybe I'm scared of commitment, I haven't seen my therapist in a while…" she gave a humourless chuckle, not sure with the reasoning. It fell on stony ground though.

"So basically, if I'd asked you to spend the rest of your life with me _tomorrow, _you'd be saying yes? Is that what you're telling me?" Understandable anger and confusion was setting in. "I said that I knew we were going about this at double speed, but I guess I was alone in the thought that it felt _right_. That it felt natural that the next step was marriage, no matter how quickly it was from moving in together. Maybe it's just me who's fully in this relationship."

"No, Mac. No. I am here whole-heartedly and I love you so much. I know how much I've hurt you in saying this, and I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself, or whether you will ever forgive me either, but it's just too fast for me. Cant we just enjoy 'co-habituating' for a while?" She flashed a hopeful, and sorrowful, smile.

Mac watched. "I have to go," he muttered, swinging his jacket from the back of the chair and passing her to the door.

"Mac…"

He turned to her.

"I'm sorry."

"I know." And with that he was gone. She watched his silhouette disappear through the kitchen doors and through the back. Stella passed a hand through her hair and wiped away fallen tears before crashing back onto the chair. She cast a glance around the room. The lighting, the flowers, the music; it was all so romantic, all so perfect. And yet she just couldn't do it.

Mac's hurt emerald eyes flashed into her reverie. They firmly rooted themselves behind her eyelids, cursing her with the image whenever she blinked.

Was she kidding herself that it was too soon? Was it just a sleep-deprivation or something more? Was it as fast as she thought it was? Was she actually scared?

She flicked another tear from her ashen cheek, her eyes finally dropping to the ring box on the table. She looked to the door, he wasn't there. Her hand snaked up the table to the artefact, her fingers wrapping around the velvet box. Taking a breath, she pulled it open, gasping once again at the beauty of the ring.

It was an antique; Twenties' inspired, if not legitimate. One pretty-big diamond rock, heart shaped, surrounded by smaller sparkling stones on a white-gold band. It was perfect.

Oh God, what had she done?


	32. Reparations

So do you all hate me now? I'm sorry! I had that planned for a long time, but I figured I'd get that kind of reaction, heehee. I hope you dont hate me so much that you stop reading, though! I'm going to be away from a computer for a couple of weeks while I move back to Uni and get the 'net installed. Grr.

Love to all xx

* * *

It was an action that Stella thought only happened in movies. Where the actress stirred from slumber and stretched an arm to the other side of the bed, not hitting the warm body of the significant other who was supposed to be there, but the cold hard mattress, not slept in all night.

Her head lifted when realisation set in. Though curls obstructed her view, she knew Mac wasn't there, and by the looks of it, hadn't been at all. When she had returned home from the restaurant in the early hours, she woefully and wearily crawled into bed, exhaustion trumping her overactive mind.

The sleep was dreamless and blissfully long, but the heaviness in her gut was still there. _Did that really happen?_

She strained through the sleep-haze to see the alarm clock telling her it was ten-thirty-AM. That was a record for the last couple of months. Her head dropped to the pillow with a muffled groan.

After a lovely hot shower and shampoo, she climbed into her car and headed for the office. The irony that she really just couldn't keep away from the place wasn't lost on her, seeing as it was her day off after a hell of a case, but she needed to talk to Mac.

The afore-mentioned irony also wasn't lost on those who she passed in the parking lot or hallways. She gave a "You actually thought otherwise?" shrug and smile and carried on with her mission. She heaved a semi-sigh of relief to see the man in question hunched over papers in his office.

"Hey," Stella said, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind her.

"Hey yourself," he replied, looking up, the hurt still there but disguised with professionalism.

"You didn't come home last night."

"Slept here."

"Oh. Can we talk?"

As if to answer her question, Danny bounded into the office. "Mac, Connor says there's something we should take a look at over at 115th. I'm heading out there now, you comin'?" he told, excitement and curiosity magnified in his glasses. "Hey, Stel. Can't keep away, eh?"

"Something like that, Dan."

"I'll meet you at the car," Mac said, hoping he'd get the hint. He did.

"Be good," Stella warned the departing figure. "Lunch?" she mentioned, bringing the conversation back, though the enormous grey elephant in the room couldn't be ignored.

"Can't. Get takeout, I'll be home by six." He swung his jacket from the seat and onto his body.

"Six," she repeated. Mac kissed her cheek as he passed, calming her fears somewhat.

Xx

She didn't in fact get a takeout as instructed, but cooked a meal worthy of Massimo's in her free time. She even had a home-made Tiramisu cooling in the fridge. The kitchen table was set out with candles and wine, all awaiting the return of Mac.

"I'm back," he called, the sound of the door closing book-ending his comment. She listened as he dropped his brief-case in the hall, hung his jacket on the hook and put his keys next to hers in the dish with a clatter.

"Kitchen!" she called back. She positioned herself behind a chair, smoothing her back dress down and folding an escaped curl behind her ear.

"Wha-What's all this?" Mac asked, taken back a step.

"I didn't fancy takeout."

"Wow," he whispered, taking in the table and the woman behind it all. "I don't think those table-mats have seen daylight since Claire was alive."

Stella gave a smile as she pulled a dish out of the oven. "Home-made Moussaka, with home-made garlic bread and home-made Tiramisu for dessert." Just the slightest bit of pride in her voice.

"Really pulled out the stops, huh?" He mentioned taking a seat. She wasn't sure if that was a dig at the effort for the night before or an actual compliment. She took it as the latter, hoping Mac wasn't as spiteful as that.

"Thought we deserved it."

They ate with general chatter; work, work-related gossip - the usual. The real matter at hand was postponed until after desert.

When the time came, Stella refilled the wine glasses while Mac put the dishes in the sink. They sat back down and looked to each other. "We gonna talk?" she asked.

"Have you changed your mind?" he took a sip of the wine and put the glass back down with a pointed stare.

"…no."

"I see."

"I just don't think it's the time to get married. This is -was- going so great. I think we should explore that some more before we jump to the alter."

"'Jump to the alter'? Stella, you're 38 years old, we're not getting any younger. We've known each other for ten or more years, it's not like we're rushing anything."

"Isn't it? We've only been _together _for ten months-"

"and living together for two, I know, I've heard this argument before."

"Don't do that, Mac."

"Do what?"

"Belittle my reservations and feelings."

He sipped at his wine again, calming himself down from the frustrated precipice.

"I just don't think we're there as a couple. I don't think I'm there and, in all seriousness, I still don't think you're ready either."

"This isn't about Claire again, is it? I've told you before _not_ to tell me when I'm 'ready' and what I'm 'ready' for, Stella. I'm a big boy, I _can_ make my own mind up." The precipice was getting closer and closer…

"Don't act like Claire doesn't still have a big say in your decisions, Mac."

"_What_ are you talking about?"

"She'll come into conversation every day. You'll mention something that she used to say, something she used to do, something she used to have…"

"She was my _wife_, Stella. That's not something I can just forget about!"

"Have I asked you to? I knew her as well, Mac. She was my friend too, and she was taken from _me _too."

"I was married to her for 12 years, this was _our _house-"

"Exactly, but now it's supposed to be _our _house, Mac; yours and mine. Claire doesn't live here anymore."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation…"

"When I was moving in, I knocked a box over by accident of Claire's things and you nearly bit my head off-"

"I apologised for that-"

"That's not the point. Claire is still too much of a touchy subject for you to fully and completely let someone else into your life."

"She was my damn wife, Stella!"

"I know that!"

"So you're not going to marry me because my dead wife is a painful _subject_?"

"Don't twist this so that I'm the bad-guy here."

"I'm just really having a hard time believing that this is actually what we're breaking up over."

That stumped her.

"…Breaking up?"

"Isn't that what's happening here?"

"I didn't _think_ so."

"I think I'm seeing more of a future between us than you are…"

"That is not true. I'm on the same page as you are, you're just further down it than me."

"Can you tell me when we're going to be on the same line, then?"

"…Not for certain…"

"Is there any point to us reading the same book then?"

"Can we lose the book analogy, 'cos I'm getting really lost here, Mac."

"Do you think we could bounce back from something like this?"

"We can. We definitely can. It just might take some fighting."

"I'm not young enough to fight anymore, Stella. The thing I loved most about this relationship was that it was easy, it was right. I'm not so sure anymore."

"So that's it? We're over?"

"I think it's for the best."

They sat there for a few moments, looking into each others eyes, trying to visualise a way of rectifying it all. To let the past two nights just become an unfortunate, and later forgotten blip, on the road to complete happiness.

They could see it wasn't going to happen.

Stella's head sagged, her eyes burning with tears she refused to shed. "I guess I'll pack my bag then."

"You don't have to do that tonight."

"I think I do. I'll go to a hotel or something. I'll sort something out, you don't have to worry about me, I'm a big girl." She told him, using his own words.

She swallowed the rest of her wine in one gulp and made for the bedroom. She didn't see Mac's head drop into his hands, his body heaving a heavy, sad sigh.

She re-emerged a few minutes later, a duffle bag in hand with a selection of clothing stuffed inside. She fought with everything she could muster to not let one of the tears that were stinging her eyes fall.

Mac stood when Stella came into the kitchen again. She walked to him and kissed him for the last time. A kiss to remember her by. She whispered "Goodbye," and collected her jacket and keys from the hall and slipped out into the bleak New York night.


	33. Life Goes On

I'm back! Don't get me started on modems or modem selling people. Or Royal Mail for that matter.

Gah, anyway, on with the show.

* * *

Another work day, another pay check.

Natalie strolled the halls headed for the locker rooms. Life was good again for the Wisconsin native: she and Steven were trying for another baby; she enjoyed her work and her colleagues and she even had a couple of days off in the not-so-distant future. Yeah, life was good.

She turned the corner and saw the locker room just ahead. She noticed once again the door refused to shut. One of the hinges was off, because without a decent shoulder-shove, it would stay ajar indefinitely. The only downfall with the tried and tested shoulder-shove, was that it had to be administered from the inside, so it kind of defeated the purpose.

Trish from Trace stopped her just short of the door, talking of the latest finding for the case Nat was working on. Her attention began to sway when another conversation could be heard from behind the door. It was one-sided, and actually sounded like Stella. Nat hadn't seen Mac in the building on her travels, so Stella being here on her own peaked her interest.

"_Hi, can I speak to Bradley Dooston please? … Thanks. …Brad? Stella Bonasera…I'm doing well thanks, yourself? … Sounds good,"_ she chuckled, _"Well, I was hoping you might have a one-bed-one-bath close to work I could take off your hands?…Oh… Oh, okay, I'll give them a ring, thanks Brad."_

Why was Stella looking for a one-bed-one-bath close to work?

Trish went on her way with a thanks from Nat, while the latter wandered into the locker room in curiosity.

Stella was already on another call and gave a wave. "Is that Anita Cannavale?…Hi, I got your number from Brad Dooston, he said you'd be able to help me out with a one-bed-one-bath close to Broadway…" She started to smile, "That sounds perfect, can I set up a viewing?…Yeah, I can make that. I'll see you then, thanks." She flipped her phone closed with a relieved sigh. _That was pretty easy._

"You guys moving?" Natalie asked, her head peaking around from her locker door. Stella had almost forgotten she was there.

"Um…No. Just me." Stella stood up and put her phone back into her bag in her open locker. Nat was silent but casting her a curious look, which Stella finally gave in and looked at. "We, er, broke up."

Nat sank to the bench with a thud. "What?"

"Last night," she shrugged, hoping her sleepless night of tears had got the hurt and confusion out of her system.

"What _happened_? I thought it was all going great! What, did he propose or something?" she scoffed to break the ice.

Silence.

"_He proposed?_"

"Night before last," she said, her hand twirling to signify the time lapse.

"Stella, more than three words please!"

She sighed and sat down next to her. The events of the last two days were relayed in minimal detail, it feeling too personal to divulge verbatim.

"Where did you stay last night?"

"A hotel a few blocks away. I've got a viewing on a new apartment this afternoon. It didn't feel right to throw Connor out just because of what happened."

"I can't believe this. I thought you two were solid."

"These things happen," Stella kicked her locker door shut and stood up to straighten her jacket and made for the door.

Nat followed her, swiveling in her seat, "Okay, well you and me are going out tonight-"

"-I-"

She spoke fast so as to not let her refusal any entryway into the decision, "It's only right after a break-up of 'amicable' standing, meaning more him than you, than you get dolled up to the nines and drown the bastard at the bottom of a shot glass and on top of a table. So, Sullivan's at Nine. "

Stella pulled at the handle, "Rain- whoa!" Mac pushed at the same time, nearly crashing into her. "Sorry."

"My fault."

Nat couldn't not look.

"How are you?" Mac asked, scratching at neck and looking so uncomfortable it was almost too hard to watch. Almost.

"Good…you?"

"Good." He looked around the room, and told Natalie more than Stella, "Assignments in five." With that, he disappeared again.

Stella's head drooped, expelling a heavy sigh. "Sullivan's?"

"Nine," Nat grinned.


	34. Of Mates and Dates

The end is nigh, my friends. Majority is written out. All good things must come to an end, eh? xx

* * *

The Day Shift team, sans its leader and Connor, were strewn around the break room. Stella was nursing yet another Danny-made coffee sludge, while Danny himself chattered into his cell-phone on the other side of the room, away from ear-shot. Natalie was telling Stella of her dreaded weekend ahead with "Beelzebub's favourite in-laws", she was desperately hoping the case she was working on would require overtime, maybe three days worth?

They were waiting on the missing members to join them for lunch at Sullivan's, and said lunch hour was quickly deteriorating when Connor graced them with his presence.

"Finally! Where's Mac?" Natalie exclaimed. Danny said his goodbyes to whom they assumed was Aiden, and rejoined the group.

"Sorry about that, had to make a run to the morgue. I don't think Mac's coming," he said, pulling the elastic band from his shoulder-length hair, bunching the black strands together again and securing.

"What makes you think that?"

"Just passed him in the hall with a _serious_ looker," Connor winked, to which Natalie gave him a nudge in the side.

"Hey, what was that for?"

Nat not-so-subtly nodded to Stella.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, put the boy down," Stella grinned, though there was a hint of sadness in her green eyes. "We broke up over two months ago."

"Oh, God. Stella, I'm sorry."

"Forget it, I'm glad he's moving on," she said somewhat genuinely. "She was pretty?"

"Next Top Model, pretty," he said almost apologetically. "Though too old for me."

"You mean you _wont _date anything in a skirt?" Natalie asked, mock-shocked.

"She's funny!" he pointed to her with a short-lived grin, before wrapping his arm around her neck and pulling her to the door in a good-natured head-lock. "We goin'?"

Xx

Mac pulled into Massimo's parking lot and killed the engine. Ever the gentleman, he crossed the car to the passenger side and stood aside while she got out.

They dodged the busy lunch traffic and the gentleman again opened the heavy wooden door into the sunlit restaurant. It was lucky that Mac had called ahead and reserved a table because the lunch menu was one of the most popular times for Little Italy's little gem.

Massimo himself seated the pair, took drink requests and returned not long later for the food order. Massimo shot her a less-than-lovely glance when taking her menu.

"You two really had some fans, huh?"

"Sorry about that," Mac muttered, watching the managers retreating figure.

"Okay, Mac, so tell me what we're doing here," she leant forwards, her brunette bangs framing her pixie features.

"Well, Anita, I have a two-bed-one-bath for the market and a search for the same."

Anita Cannavale, of 'New Home New York' Estate Agency, immediately scanned her mental knowledge for the criteria. "You're selling for the same?"

"It's more about what I'm selling. It's just time."

"Well, okay then. When can you put it on the market?"

"As soon as?"

"I'll start the process when I get back, then," she smiled and sipped at her water.

"Thanks," he smiled. It had taken a long time to get to this point, but, well, Stella was right. That house was always going to be Claire's. He needed a new place, a place with no attached memories, but room to make some more. "How are the kids?"


	35. Angela Cordoe

Do not adjust your set, your eyes do not deceive you - this actually is an update!

So many apologies, hope you all had a good holiday xx

* * *

Stella studied the chalkboard menu above the counter. She gave the girl her own order and Danny's, who was busy working their case back at the labs. She was digging into her purse when she heard her name. 

"Angela Cordoe," she smiled, spinning to the voice seated at an empty table. She and Stella had worked Narco together, more years back than either would care to remember. Stella asked for Danny's order to go, joining Angela with her own.

She took a seat at the table. Cordoe had barely changed. Same caramel-chocolate coloured eyes and skin, same bright smile that dulled just a bit every year with all the sights she saw as head supervisor of Narcotics.

They slipped right back into their old routine, chatting as if they had just seen each other yesterday, and not the 12 years it had really been. Sure, they'd passed the other in the hall, each saying that they really should do lunch and catch up, but neither actually taking the initiative to set the time and place.

"It must be fate that we met today," Angela said, slipping another potato chip into her mouth.

"How's that?" Stella asked, her eyebrows knitted in intrigue.

"Well, there's actually a job opening in Narco, shaped perfectly to your knowledge."

"Really? How come I've not heard about it?"

"The last owner of the title is leaving under less than favourable circumstances. The Powers That Be want the position filled as quickly as possible, handing it out to the best suited rather than opening it up for all. Your name came up in conversation…"

"Who do I have to thank for that?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Angela shrugged elaborately, pointing the finger straight at herself. "I'm pretty sure Adam Simpkins still has that crush on you, maybe it was him…"

"Mmhmm," Stella smirked, falling for none of it. She listened as Angela laid out the finer points to the position.

"On top of all that, it's an extra 3-grand to what you're on now, and a whole boat load of people under you, which we both know is buckets of fun."

"That is true, but I'm comfortable here. I know my job, I know my colleagues, and most times I know the rules and limitations. It would be so much work to start from scratch again…"

"What is there _really_ holding you to CSI now?" Angela asked, leaning forward with her arms crossed on the table. "You and Mac have been broken up for a while now-"

"You knew about that?"

"It was big news in every department."

"Great!"

"Exactly. You and Mac are no more, you can do the job with your eyes closed…Don't you want a bit of excitement? Actually take that gun out of it's holster and shoot it a couple of times?"

Stella dryly chuckled. Angela obviously hadn't spent a day as a CSI.

"You remember what it was like in Narco," Cordoe continued. "Working so closely to one case, knowing the perps inside and out and knowing without a shadow of a damn doubt that you will have saved hundreds of dumb teenagers lives. Don't you want that rush again?"

Angela sat back with a gleeful smile. She could tell by the glossy look in Stella eyes that she was getting through to her.

Stella sighed, "Can I think about it?"

"Of course. Deadline for names is Friday, so let me know by then." She stood up, bag in hand. "Hey, you never know. Maybe Adam will be the new Mac…"

"Go!" Stella laughed, watching Angela pass her with eyebrows in her hairline.

Xx

Stella made it back to the labs and passed off Danny's lunch to the thankful worker-bee. She was stashing her purse back in her locker when Natalie came crashing in, telling her of a big break in their case that needed immediate presence.

They headed to the car for what was going to be a long drive unfortunately. Stella's mind was still twisting and turning the facts of the conversation with Angela. Did she really want to leave? Could she leave? Or would she be leaving people in the lurch?

Could she handle working Narco now? Could she actually do the job? Could she actually remember a damn thing about the procedures, the chemicals, anything?

Suddenly, a penny was thrust into her eye-line. "What the-?"

"Penny for your thoughts," Natalie smiled, knowing _something _was going on.

She could do with saying it all out loud, maybe it would clarify some things, and get a fresh perspective on events. "I saw an old friend at lunch today. We worked Narco together. She said there's a job there for me if I wanted it…"

Nat's eyebrows rose, "And do you?"

"That's the thing, I don't know."

"Well, if it's eating you up so much, you're obviously tempted."

"Angela brought up some interesting points, all siding with why I should leave CSI and take it."

"Number one being Mac?"

"Pretty much. Did you know we were the talk of the town? Every department knew apparently."

"It's what sells the papers, honey," Nat smirked, before switching back to their original topic. "Isn't it a step back though? I mean, you've been with CSI for what, ten-"

"-twelve-"

"-Twelve years. You've done Narcotics. Been there, done that, got the mental scars to prove it. Do you really want to go back?"

"What has CSI still got for me though? Yes, you've all become family to me, but you all have your own _proper _families and lives going on to miss one person. Anyway, Mac has obviously moved on with The Looker, why shouldn't I move on?"

"You're not talking about moving on to a different relationship, which Mac is supposed to have, although I still find Connor to be a bit of an unreliable source for that information. Anyway, you're talking about moving to a completely different department, in a different borough. That's big."

"That's the problem."

Xx

Natalie dropped Stella off at her place on the way back from the scene. Working the actual scene came as a relief, her mind and energy was on different subjects and not on the job front. She had Angela's, Nat's and her own views on the situation, but she knew who the one person was who's opinions would be the most useful.

Mac.

It wasn't wholly because of their history, though he was the one to steal her from Angela in the first place, but he would be the objective party that she really needed to hear right now.

She got comfortable on the chair, her legs curled beneath her, and dialled his number. She didn't have to wait too long for an answer, though it wasn't quite the voice she was hoping to hear.

"_Hello?" _A female asked.

Oh, God. Was that The Looker? Perfect. "Is Mac there?"

"_Mac?"_

'Oh, I'm sorry, maybe you know him as 'honey bunny'?' she though sarcastically. She was rethinking the whole calling thing already. "Mac. Tall. Broody. Marine?"

"_Oh! You might mean the previous owner. We've only lived here for 5 weeks. I think I have a forwarding number here somewhere, would you like it?"_

He moved? "Yeah…please, that would be great."

She waited for a minute or two and could hear drawers opening and shutting down the line. The woman eventually came back and read out the address and digits. Stella thanked her and rang off.

He moved out? He actually moved house and didn't mention a damn thing to her? Wasn't that actually one of those petty reasons that they broke up in the first place? She didn't know whether to be angry or hurt. Hurt, definitely hurt.

Well, that sealed it then. If he couldn't talk to her about a major event in his life, why should she talk to him about one in hers?

Was anything actually holding her back to CSI?


	36. The Papers

So many millions of apologies. It was not a conscious effort to let nearly 2 months pass between updates. 'Wicked' happened, then Uni deadlines, then the new academic year started...and on top of all that, El Muso seemed to take a vacation to _Miami_. Yet, all of that is not an excuse.

I am determined to find a way to multi-task better than before, and write for _NY_/_Miami_/Uni at the same time. Thank you for your continued support with this fic, it actually celebrated its first birthday at the beginning of the month, and to have so many emails and reviews badgering for an update, it really touched me, so thank you all xx

* * *

If Stella was anything, she was a fighter. Everyone knew it, everyone respected it and everyone loved her for it, but it was just too hard now. She'd fooled them all for long enough that she was fine and coping and even happy to be without Mac. She was sick of fighting and fooling.

She clutched the envelope in her fist, the transfer forms inside dotted and crossed and awaiting his signature. This was one of the first times where she had no clue of Mac's pending reaction. Would he freak? Would he refuse to sign, tear it into little pieces right in front of her? Or would he crawl back into his shell, sign his John Hancock and wish her well, ignoring their past and refusing their future?

It had been over 24hours since hearing of Mac's move, but it still left her head and heart reeling with conflicting emotions. She had been steeling herself all morning for the hand-off of papers, running through answers to his questions, installing the shield against the expressions in his eyes. This was for her. He didn't have a hold on her anymore, they both just had to realise that now.

Walking past the break room, she gave a nod to Natalie and gestured quietly to the envelope. Nat smiled sadly, but gave her a closed-fist for good luck and strong nerves.

Turning the corner, she laid eyes on him. Her hands shook slightly as she watched them. She balled them into a fist and with a deep breath and a confirmation that she was doing the right thing, she knocked and slipped through the glass doors.

"That's a serious face," Stella said. Did he know about her transfer? It wasn't quite what she had planned to start with, but something was worrying him, and her by association. Her eyes fell to the letter in his hands, the light behind him illuminating the Marine seal on the paper. Her heart instantly turned to ice.

Mac looked up, paraphrasing the correspondence: "Apparently my attendance is required at an awards ceremony for excellence in the field. For saving Carl Stankevich's life."

"Mac…!" She exhaled her baited breath, her body shuddering imperceptibly from relief. "This is amazing! They're giving you an award?"

"Yeah…I have to go to DC to receive it," he sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? I have to stand up in front of hundreds of people and declare how I saved a man's life in extreme conditions!"

"You've lost me. Why is that a bad thing?"

"Because I didn't save a man from bullets, I saved a man from _killing himself_." He threw the letter back on the table and stalked to a glass wall overlooking the hall and the window to the skyline beyond.

"You've _really _lost me now."

"Stankevich…_Carl…_he stood up. He stood up in the line of fire. I was barely 5 foot away, I saw it as plain as day: he swung his weapon to his side, threw off his helmet and stood up. I didn't save his life, I saved him from committing suicide, Stella. I don't deserve that award, it's all a fake."

"Hey, you still saved his life. Maybe not in the most commendable circumstances on _his _part, but you still risked your own well-being for his. You still saved his life," she told him. He could be so stubborn sometimes; he wasn't taking any of her attempts. She crossed the desk to him, parking herself between him and the wall, no escape. "Listen to me. Imagine if Carl had done that at a different time. Imagine it had been when you were all in hiding, and him walking out into the line of fire alerted the enemy to your whereabouts. Imagine what might have happened then: all of you might have been dead. If you won't accept the award for saving Carl's life, accept it for saving the lives of all the other men and women. Who knows what might have happened otherwise?"

He watched her, actually looking like he was taking it all in. He was questioning what he had done to deserve that amazing woman in his life, what he had done to lose her and what it would take to get her back. "Would you come? I don't think I would have the nerve to accept it if you wasn't there. Plus, it wouldn't be right without you. It was you who looked after me when I got back and-"

"I'd love to."

He sighed heavily, gratefully. "Thank you."

"Tell me when and where, and I'll be there." The envelope crunched in her hand, suddenly reminding her of its existence and its contents.

"What's that?"

"Oh, er, nothing important. I was going on an errand, wanted permission to leave the premises," she gave him a smirk and slipped back out of the office, envelope in hand.

She gave a humourless chuckle and ripped the papers into four neat squares, depositing it in front of Nat in the break room.

"What's this?" she asked.

"My transfer papers…"

Natalie practically squealed and jumped from her seat to hug Stella. "You're sticking around?"

"So it seems," she laughed.

"How come?" she asked, peeling herself from the other woman. "I thought it was final."

"It was, but… I don't know." Stella sat down next to where Natalie had sat back down.

"You still love him?"

"I shouldn't, but I do."

"Do you really believe Connor? That Mac's moved on?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore. If he has, then…I'm happy for him."

"If he hasn't, you're even happier?" Nat asked with a smirk and a wiggle of her brows.

Stella just chuckled, before her face turned sour again. "We've both changed in between though. He's pulled back from reality even more than before. You know he moved house? Didn't tell a soul, not even me. I even went so far as to consider up-and-moving to another department."

"Oh, please." Nat snorted, leaning back into the chair and crossing her arms in smug disbelief. "You seriously think you've changed."

Stella mimicked her posture and expression.

"Honey, you and Mac are both equal parts _annoying_ and _stubborn_ when it comes to your personal lives. The only things that have changed in the two months since you broke up are that you're both older and he changed zip-codes. Nothing else. You're both as smitten with each other today as you were before I got here, so please, for all our sakes, wake up and make up!"

Stella watched her in fascination. Natalie grinned and stood up, crossing to her and laying a hand on her shoulder. "I know, I should take this show on the road…" She giggled and left the room.

Stella rubbed her hands across her face and led them into her hair. What was she going to do? Was she to believe Connor about The Looker, or Natalie about Mac? When it came to work, everything was pretty much clear cut - Someone was dead; you figure out if you need to investigate said death; you find reason for said death and perpetrator of said death. Done. When it comes to love…?

As if on cue, Mac strode past the break room and cast a look inside. He saw her and flashed a smile - warm and thankful - and carried on his way. It had been a while since he'd smiled at her like that. Two months, maybe.


	37. Washington, DC

There really aren't enough apologies in the world. Again, I am saying this, and again I mean it from the bottom of my heart. So, to try to appease my awful time-keeping skills, I give you a verylong chapter.

Don't forget, only one more to go! Becs xx

* * *

"_It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that mater in the end."_

_Ursula leGuin. Author. _

Xx

"Bonasera." Stella mumbled into her phone, balancing it between her ear and shoulder.

"_Stella, it's me. Have you got the Phyllis file?" _Natalie asked.

"It's on my desk."

"_I'm in your chair."_

Stella straightened up, imagining herself in her office and behind her desk so to describe where the case file was. "On your left. Second pile. Third file."

"_Got it! Thanks. Are you ready to go?"_

"Pretty much."

"…_Are you shaving your legs?"_

Stella snorted with disbelief - how did she know? "So?"

"_Oh, it is so a dirty weekend in DC!"_

"I'm wearing a dress tomorrow! I don't want to look like Ralph the Safety Dog in the Dolce."

"_Nor the La Perla…"_

"You have way too much of an interest in my sex life."

"_Hey, I'm just glad you have one."_

"You're trying to get pregnant, you've got the best sex life of anyone I know!"

Natalie laughed down the phone. _"See you Monday."_

Stella chuckled a "Bye," and hung up, finished her task.

Xx

It was only 53 minutes in the air from New York to Washington DC. The pilot had announced it as they came to a halt in Dulles airport, his voice tinged with pride, even though this was probably the ninety-fifth time he'd done the path.

Mac and Stella grabbed their bags from the conveyor belt and hailed a cab outside. The cold weather wasn't just a New York thing, they found, as they pulled their lapels tighter around their chests. The sun was almost finished switching shifts with the moon and bringing the night chills with it.

"Taylor?" Mac told the man behind the check-in desk of their hotel. Stella leant against the solid wood counter and took in her surroundings. It was a _nice _hotel. She could easily imagine random politicos walking the halls, blonde assistants trying to keep pace and take notes at the same time.

"Taylor…Taylor…Ah, here we go," the clerk said, his fingers tapping madly on a keyboard hooked to a computer hidden from view. "Mr. Taylor from New York. Here for the Military Event and wanting two rooms?" He looked to Mac for confirmation. With a nod, the man - name tag reading _Roosten _- clicked some more keys and turned to the pigeon-holed wall behind him. He took two keys and handed them to Mac. "The elevators are down that hall and to the left. Your rooms are on the fifth floor - park view - and please enjoy your stay with us."

Mac thanked him, taking the keys and bending for his bag from the floor. It was then that he noticed his guest and wandered off. He wasn't wholly surprised, once something caught Stella's eye or mind, she was off until she had answers.

He found sat back on a large overstuffed maroon leather chair, legs crossed, eyes gazing out to the quickly vanishing sunset. The orange hues cast across the sky reminded her of the last time she'd watched the sunset with Mac - landing back in New York after their vacation to Portugal. So much had happened in the time since, it was almost sad.

"Ready?" Mac asked, trying not to startle her too much.

Stella nodded with a wistful smile, falling into step as they headed for the elevator. He handed her her key as the doors whooshed shut and the car jerked into life. The muzak of 'Ma Cherie Amore' taunting them as they ascended floors in almost-painful silence.

The signs, as the door opened, indicated their rooms were to the right, and were soon to be found directly opposite each other. Stella wasn't sure when exactly it had happened, but the pair had fallen into the bashful, tension-filled mannerisms that has plagued them since their break up. She hoped the rest of the stay wouldn't be of the same, but as they turned their backs to one another to open their doors, she couldn't help but expect it.

"So," she said as he swung open. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Do you want to get something to eat? I hear the restaurant here is one of the best in the city."

"Not tonight, eh? It's been a long day. I think I'm just going to order to room service and fall asleep to Letterman." The day _had _been long - the flight being after a full day shift and delayed on top of that - but Mac's disappointed eyes bore guilt straight into her.

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll knock at 10am, that okay?"

"That's good," she smiled and slipped away to her room.

Mac watched after her for a minute, wondering if he was being watched through the key hole, not really caring. God, he really needed to sort his head out.

Xx

Mac Taylor lay propped up in his bed, berating himself for not bringing those clean sheets and trying his hardest to not analyse the bed spread too much. He knew better than anyone about the perils of hotel linen, but he lay there, skin on cotton, with his mind far, far away.

Why had he asked her to come? Because she surprised him in his office when he was reading the letter? Because he didn't want to come, but subconsciously did and knew it would take Stella to frog-march him to the ceremony? Or because he saw the fact of getting away from the city, and the inevitable memories of when he returned home and they had got together, as some way of reconnecting with Stella Bonasera and maybe restarting their relationship?

Xx

There was something about hotels that made Stella feel like a kid again. Maybe it was that they would be in different cities, so the excitement of a new environment and new people brought it out in her; maybe it was that they broke up her usual daily routine, more often than not by re-introducing the novel notion of lie-ins…

Or maybe it was just the company she came to hotels with.

What was she seeing for the break ahead? That she and Mac would somehow settle their differences and restart what they had? Was that really an option? Or did Mac really just ask her to come along as someone to lean on, and use as a scapegoat when locked in conversations he would really rather not be having?

God, she hated these games.

Xx

Was that everything? Speech in the breast pocket, cellphone - on silent/vibrate - in left jacket pocket and room key in trouser pocket. Mac double checked with a cursory look around the hotel room and slipped out into the hallway. He smoothed the navy blue over-coat down, proud that the Marine suit still fitted him.

He knocked on Stella's door and heard a "Two seconds!" in reply. He waited two seconds and knocked again. "Very funny!"

When Stella did open the door - not thirty seconds later - Mac had to blink.

Her unruly curls teased to perfection; make-up accentuating her best feature - twinkling emerald green eyes; and _that_ dress. He didn't begin to understand where she found such a dress with the time she'd had to search, but nevertheless…

Never one to go flashy, the neckline showed just enough to leave the imagination filling in the rest and begging for more, and the muted white colour highlighted her tinted skin tone beautifully.

"Will I do?" She asked, her eyes glinting with mischievousness and feminine wiles.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," he smirked, holding out his arm. "Come on."

Xx

"So, what happens here?" Stella asked, clutching Mac's arm for balance as they made their way down the steps to their seats. The actual podium was at the base of a small hill, the drink stands and food tent being at the top.

"Awards, speeches, hopefully a lot of beer, then a meal."

"When do you go on?"

"I'm last. I'm the highest ranking receiver here, so I'm there to close with a speech."

"You give a speech?"

"'About the rewards of fighting for my country and how everyone here is just a small, but important, contingent to the allied forces winning this war.'"

"I get the impression they weren't your words…"

"No, they were not." Mac said, guiding her into two free seats.

"Can I read what you have?"

"No, but you can hear it soon enough," he smiled, his eyes tinged with tedium and longing to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Stella squeezed his arm and smiled confidently for him.

---

The award session had began with a speech about how proud each and every attendee should feel, whether they were military personnel or civilian, that the future of the West's liberty and safety was held in the hands of those before them. It was a touching speech, and one that Stella was half-expecting to be book ended by the National Anthem.

She knew that they were words that Mac more than believed in, but maybe felt like he didn't need to hear them, at least in the circumstances he heard them in. He still felt some animosity to being asked there in the first place, with the events surrounding his 'courageous act' not feeling particularly courageous on his part.

The ceremony had two intervals, where those in attendance could travel back up the steps to the drink tents before retaking their seats for the next session. They were into their second break, meaning Mac's speech was coming up next and he was being whisked away for a quick briefing about what his speech should entail.

Stella wished him luck and stepped to the railings to watch him descend back to the lower tier. She began to take in her surroundings again, the rolling fields counteracted with the metal high-rises in the distance, Carl Stankevich watching her from the bar…

Her face must have registered her surprise because he began to make his way over to her, eyes cast downwards.

"Stella."

"Carl, how are you?" He looked well enough. His dark suit blended him into the background, but he was clean shaven and had a healthy glow about him.

"I'm good, doing well. You?"

"I'm good." She looked down to Mac, wondering if he had noticed the conversation.

"Listen, I-I don't know what Mac told you about, about what happened over there. I just couldn't hack it no more. The things you see over there, they really screw you up. I couldn't see any other way out than… than what I did. I regret so much that Mac got hurt, it was never ever part of my _plan _for someone other than myself to get hurt. I can't thank him enough, though, for what he did. I wasn't in the right place to appreciate what I had and what I have. Could you tell him for me, please?"

"He knows that, Carl. He knows better than anyone what your went through." Stella said, her hand delicately stroking his arm, the familiar sting of tears threatening.

Carl nodded, "Still…"

"I'll tell him."

He braced himself on the railing, his eyes falling to the stage where his Major was getting briefed for his big moment. "He deserves this reward, you know. Whatever circumstances he may have been nominated for, he deserves it tenfold."

Stella beamed with pride as she followed Stankevich's eyeline. She hoped Mac had to come to see that he deserved it too.

"Bye Stella. I hope you two will be happy together. You deserve it just as much as he."

Before she could update him on recent goings-on, he had already disappeared back into the crowd from which he came.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the speaker announced from the stage, "we have our final award to give out. This medal is too the highest ranking Marine with us today. He has served and protected through many battles, living to tell his inspirational story. Please give a round of applause as we award the Medal of Honor to Major Mac Taylor."

The congregation did just that as Mac stepped back into view. Stella lead the way, tears even moreso threatening now, as she took in his humble but appreciative demeanor. The medal was pinned to his lapel, before the speaker gestured to the microphone for him to say a few words.

He stepped forward, his eyes casting to the audience and his hand digging into his pocket. As the crowd fell into a anticipative lull, Mac looked to his medal, then to the officials watching him eagle-eyed from the sidelines. They had approved of his speech, because it was basically their words. The officers in the stands had heard their words all day…

The folded speech in his hands was put back into his pocket.

"I was asked to make a speech about courage and how everybody here is present because we are 'the best of the best'. I'm not going to say that. I'm in no way saying that that it is untrue, but I know how sick I am personally of hearing that, that I'm about ready to shoot the next person who says it, so I don't know about you…" An ominous chuckle sounded.

Mac took a deep breath. "We are all here today because we have seen death. We have witnessed it, and no doubt caused it in many cases. It is not something we are necessarily proud of, but in that split second where we had to choose a path to take, it let us here today. By having you all sit in front of me now, you chose the right path.

"It will never get easier. No matter how much you train your body and your mind, having death so uncomfortably close will follow you forever. The only thing I can suggest, by having faced it for over 25years in the military - and on the streets of New York City - is that you have something to look forward too. To have someone to come home too means more than anyone can possibly understand. To have that need to see your daughter's first ballet recital, to teach your son how to throw a football 50 yards or to return that keepsake to a loved one back home is more important than any motivational speech your superiors might say to build moral.

"The end is not in sight as yet. One day, this hell will be over, but until then all we can do is support each other both here and where ever we are stationed. "We are not sent into this world to do anything into which we can not put our heart." It is because we have justice in our hearts that we will win the war. We have overcome the enemy this much, we can survive anything they throw at us. We have shown that beyond comparison the last 6 years, and we will show it forevermore.

"If there is nothing else good to come out of this battle, it is how united we have become because of it. We all have the same wish in our hearts, the same view of the future. Peace. It is up to us to secure it. "In the long run, we get no more than we have been willing to risk giving."

Thank you. Stay safe."

Mac descended the stage, heading for the steps to climb back to Stella, and the drinks tent. He stopped in his tracks as those in front of him rose to their feet. As did those behind them. And those behind them. Rapturous applause greeted him. The congregation of young and old servicemen and women appreciated being told the truth. It wasn't pretty - what was? - but there was still hope it in. Exactly what they needed to hear and know as they headed into their next tours.

Mac shook some hands as he restarted his way back to Stella. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, wiping away a fallen tear. "Come on…"

Xx

He was certainly a sight to behold when surrounded with his admirers. Newly decorated men wanted to buy him a drink, just generally be in the presence of someone they could learn from. Newly decorated women sought the same. Acceptance for being in a still-male dominated force… and anything else he might have been offering.

She caught his eyeline at one moment, a shared, almost bashful, smile exchanged. He regarded back to his listeners and pointed to Stella in a silent goodbye gesture.

"Hello, stranger," she smirked, taking the drink she had been waiting for for nearly an hour.

"Sorry about that. The young ones can talk when they want too."

"Good for them," she smiled, sipping at the martini. "Listen, why don't you go back to your adoring crowd, I'll head back up to the room and see you tomorrow."

"I haven't really been a great host for you, have I?"

"Of course you have, stop that. I'm just tired and you're still wired. Not to mention the fans you'd be disappointing if you left just yet."

He looked over his shoulder, the people he'd been talking hadn't even dispersed yet. "At least let me walk you to our floor."

"That, I will accept," she said with a smirk, linking her arm with his as they left the large room for the hallway elevators.


	38. Semper

Well, here we are. The end. It has been such a rewarding and amazing ride, I really cannot thank any one of you enough for sticking with me. It always amazes/d me that you guys would actually read this thing and even review. This was a pipe dream of mine for so long, so to get reception for it like such was just the icing on the cake.

I hope this one closes the book somewhat for y'all. Who knows what'll happen in the future, maybe I'll revisit the Semper files... only time will tell. But for now...

Becs xxxxxxx

* * *

"I was so proud of you today. You owned that podium and looked every inch of a man who knew he should be there. I'm glad you came around." Stella smiled, her right shoulder leaning against the elevator wall, her body turned towards Mac.

He smiled, his head dipping again. "I'm still waiting for my ticking off for going against script."

"I don't think you'll have anything to worry about. They couldn't have wished for a better speech. It told the troops the truth but it gave them hope as well. They don't want to be coddled."

"That's what I thought when I was stood there. They were all looking at me, bored and tired and sick of hearing the same thing from everyone."

"You may have been doing this longer than those out there, but you're still one of them. You'll never lose that."

Mac nodded. "Thank you for coming, Stella."

She winked, smoothing down the cloth on his sleeve. "Thank you for inviting me."

"I wasn't sure you'd want to after…everything."

"Today isn't about me and you; it's about Marine Mac and his Technicolor badges," she gave a smirk, holding on to his lapel and running a thumb across the multicoloured stripes, signalling his triumphs in the military. She kept her fingers there a beat longer than she thought should have - them being in the 'friend zone' - and quickly jerked it back.

The carriage was one floor away from their floor, they spent it listening to the musak tauntingly play 'Ma Cherie Amore', eyes cast down.

"This is me," she tried to smile, pointing to the illuminated number on the dial above. She took a step forward.

Her gaze fell onto the reflected image of Mac. He looked so handsome and rugged, leaning against the elevator wall, his dress whites slightly crumpled with a five-o'clock shadow forming. Once again, she fought with every fibre of her being to not just grab him by the collar and kiss him like she once could. No doubt better than she once could, pouring in three months of loneliness and longing into one passionate, toe-curling, body-melting kiss.

Stella took a deep breath. It caught in her throat when she realised Mac was staring back at her, the same intense look in his dark emerald eyes. He was undressing her reflection, ripping away her clothes and her inhibitions. She wanted nothing more than to hit the 'stop' button and give into the temptation that was turning the air stuffy and dripping with lust.

God, how had she gone three months without that man in her life, in her bed? How had she been so stupid as to let that man go? How had they _both _been so stupid as to let _each other _go?

The bell dinged as the doors jerked into life, pulling the two from their joint reverie. Stella closed her eyes, disgusted with herself for not having the balls to say something. She didn't see Mac droop his head with the same feeling.

'_Screw it'_ she thought. "I miss us," and with that she stepped off the elevator and into the hallway.

She got maybe three steps down the corridor when the bell sounded for the doors to close. Her knees threatened to give way, she held onto the door handle to her suite, resting her forehead against the dry, cold wood. What was she doing? What had she done? Why had she said that?

Her bag fell to the floor, the shoes she had taken to carrying following suit. Those three words had just ruined the whole weekend. They had _just_ gone back to actually talking again. Full sentences. Jokes, even. Now they'd be back to square one. Awkward meetings, monosyllables, no eye-contact. God, why did she have to say it? He knew how she felt. He knew she missed him. And he didn't miss her. She was stupid to think that he would. She was stupid to not say yes to the engagement ring when she had the chance.

"I miss us too."

Her eyes snapped open. It was her mind. Her mind playing evil, evil tricks on her. Taunting her.

Just in case, she checked. There he was.

Stood those three steps away, his jacket hanging from his fingers, his eyes looking nowhere else but into hers. "I miss us too," he said again, making sure she could hear him, could see him, could sense all the regret and apologies and truth in his words.

She left the door, a tear dripping from her cheek as she ambled up to him and did what she had been wanting too. She grabbed him by his collar and pulled him into her, her lips unrelenting in their pursuit for his. He let the jacket tumble to the floor, his hands grabbing at her back and her hair. He wasn't letting go this time, and neither was she.


	39. Deleted Scenes

Surprise!!

Okay, throughout the course of this roller coaster ride, I've done a bit a chopping to a couple of chapters, deleting a scene here and there. So, I thought seeing as you've all be truly _amazing, _I'd post all the missing parts and see what y'all thought of them. Should I have kept them in? haha

I've put which chapter they were from, and why I deleted them. Enjoy!

**Xx**

**Chapter 6. **_- This was a bit of late night fun. I was trying to get to sleep, but this scene would not disappear, and was just begging to be written. I think I must have just watched 'An Officer and a Gentleman' or something heehee Well, that kind of gives away what it's about ;) This was the dream that Stella was rudely ripped from, in the Valentines chapter, by the florist. I think this is the proverbial light bulb above her head, when she realises she just might have feelings for Mac._

_--_

"Where is she?"

"I, er, layout room, I think," Stacy replied, shock on her face and in her voice at the sight before her.

He took off down the familiar maze of hallways, easily remembering the route. Passers-by regarded him with a mixture of shock and surprise, with added thankfulness that he was actually before them, alive and well. And, of course, lust for a man in uniform.

He rounded another corner, seeing the intended destination straight ahead.

A woman looked up from her microscope, amazement etched in her silent features. Stella only stirred, lifting her head from her own microscope, when the door opened. She turned to see him, a gasp escaping. He stepped forward, devouring her lips before another sound could be uttered.

He swept her up in his arms, carrying her from the labs to a round of applause -

Stella's eyes snapped open. When the fog and haze finally cleared from her mind, she realised the clock-radio was belting out Joe Cocker's hit 'You lift me up'. The soundtrack to 'An Officer and a Gentleman'. The film about Marines.

"Oh, this can't be good," she said, clicking the 'off' button.

**Xx**

**Chapter 12. **_- This scene is set in Sullivan's when all the gang are back together to welcome Mac back to civilisation, just prior to Carl Stankevich's arrival. I cut it because I didn't get a translation in time for it to be posted. I wanted Stella to have written a note on Mac's wrist cast saying "It's so good to have you home, but if you think of leaving us again, I will be forced to chain you to the Statue of Liberty. All my love, Stella." I was going to have most of it in Greek, but with one line in Italian to emphasize that she meant business, 'cos y'all know how Italy has a kind of affiliation with, let's say, forcefulness ;) lol_

**--**

Aiden grabbed the cue chalk from the pool table and wandered over to Danny who was lining up a shot. "Did you see his cast?"

"Mac's?"

"No, _Ghandi's_. Yes, Mac's."

"Yeah, I saw it, Smart-Ass."

"Could you read what it said?"

"Most of it was in Greek apart from one Italian line."

"…and?"

He hit the white ball, the blue he aimed at missing the far pocket. He straightened himself up again and tried to remember what he had read. "It said… 'I will be forced to chain you to the Statue of Liberty'."

"Kinky," she replied, bending over to line up her next shot.

"I didn't think you was into 'kinky', Mrs Anderson."

"I said I wasn't into being strapped to a _hood,_" she potted the 8-ball, winning yet another round.

Danny shook his head in disbelief. How did she keep winning? "Is that right?"

"Yeah, it's such a shame I had to return my 'cuffs when I left…" Aiden said, leaning across her boyfriend to put the cue away.

"Shame…" he muttered, the scent of her hair invading his nostrils.

"If only I knew someone who still worked there…" she looked in to his darkened baby blue eyes, her face barely inches from his.

"If only…"

She shrugged, moving away, "I'll have to call Chad sometime."

"You do and you're on your own," he straightened himself up, suddenly remembering where they were. He put his own cue away and followed her around the table.

"Oh, now Danny, jealousy doesn't become you."

"If anyone's jealous it's Chad," he grinned, pulling Aiden in for a kiss, making sure all the bar knew she was his girl.

**X**

**Chapter 26. - **_I wrote this scene while actually in said pool and going down said slide and nearly breaking (un)said nose. face palm Anyhoo, I thought it would be a cute little scene where Mac was trying to get Stella to relax and forget about work. I mentally wrote it in the pool and loved it, but when it came to electronically writing it, I didn't like it as much, and couldn't remember some of what I said lol I don't think I mentioned that did I? The vacation I took while writing this was to Portugal. And the line "Okay, Where's MTV and who's crib is this?" was my first words when I saw the pool lol Before giggling thinking of the "Let's pimp this ride" line heehee_

--

"I know the perfect way for you to forget about work…" He'd been around Danny too long, because Stella definitely couldn't mistake his patented evil eye twinkle.

Stella followed him out to the far side of the pool, where children of all ages were cackling away and sliding into oblivion. "Oh, no. Not gonna happen."

"Come on, it'll be fun," Mac smirked, leaning an arm on the edge.

"Mac, I'm 38 years old. I don't slide."

"And yet you run over rooftops to catch hardened criminals and can assemble a M15 in how many seconds?"

"…45."

"But you don't slide."

"…No."

"That's too bad…" Mac climbed up the steps, lay straight as a die on the watered surface and disappeared over the edge.

Stella could hear the splash so clambered up to check he was still alive. It took her a second to find him, swimming under one of the small waterfalls at each side. The fact that there was waterfalls and Mac was under them was reason enough for her to sit down on the slide.

She took a breath to compose herself and forget the amount of people watching a grown woman in amongst a line of 8year olds on a _freaking_ slide. Laying down she pinched her nose with her fingers, screwed her eyes together tight and let go.

A yelp sounded just before she hit the water and slid beneath the wave. The force from the currants flipped and turned her around, but she had to admit…it was actually fun. She clambered to the surface, gasping for air and smoothing her hair back from her face. Mac was applauding her from under his waterfall, along with a few nosy sunbathers who had watched the commotion. She smirked at Mac and swam over to him, dipping through the cascading water.

"Told you it was fun."

"Shut up," she chuckled, sticking her tongue out at him.

**X**

_This one was, well, a pipe dream. This was going to be somewhere in the future of which I wasn't sure I was going to be writing or not. Even so, I found myself typing it up and saving it, so naturally it had to be posted. Who knows, maybe this will make a reappearance at some point…_

Mac quietly shut the door behind him, trying to make sure no unnecessary noise was made, in case baby Gabriella was sleeping. He dropped his briefcase at the door and hung his jacket on the peg and made his way to the living room.

The baby's moses basket was sat on the table, a very tired Mom sat on the couch fighting slumber.

"Hey," he whispered, placing a kiss in her curls. "How we doing?"

"We're doing good now. She has slept, she has eaten and she has pooped. In that order. She has also cried, and pooped some more."

"Yeah, I hear they do that a lot," he quipped, peering into the carriage with a beaming smile. Blue eyes locked onto his while a hand jutted out. Mac fed a finger into the tight grasp.

"And it looks like we have a daddy's girl," Stella almost moaned, a yawn escaping. She raked a weary hand through her hair.

Mac beamed even more and kissed the tiny fist before turning back and addressing Stella. "Okay, game plan. _You _are going to draw yourself a hot bath, with oils and bubbles and whatever else you can throw in there to make you relax. Then, you are going to come to the kitchen and enjoy a meal expertly made by myself and your daughter. And after that, you are going to go to bed, read a book if you can last that long, and sleep while I take night shift."

"You have work in the morning-"

"_I _am taking night shift, _you _are sleeping." He looked sternly at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "End of conversation."

Stella relented with a smirk. She kissed Mac and left for the bathroom, another yawn escaping.

Mac watched her go, he liked how he still wanted to watch her leave a room. "C'mon Kiddo…" he scooped up the handles to the basket and placed her back down on the kitchen table.

He talked her through what 'they' were going to be making for Mommy, seeing as she was so tired from taking care of such a beautiful baby all day. He didn't see when Stella snuck back from the bathroom to check all was okay. She saw him giving a show-and-tell to the five-week old baby that one of the differences between lasagne and Moussaka was egg plant…

Stella smiled proudly and contently and escaped back to up her tub.

**Xx**

Well, there you go. Thank you each and everyone of you - those who read and reviewed each chapter; those who just read and those who simply popped in. Many thanks to those who PM'd me to get my butt into gear and post another chapter, too! You guys where hilarious and ohso touching with all of your words of encouragement (and, in some cases, violence!).

Stay safe,

Becs xx


End file.
